Cynehelme
by kmf
Summary: Relena is a novice unhappy with her quiet life in the nunnery. However, when she is abducted by slavers and discovers that she is the heir to the High King's throne she begins to think that yearning for excitement was a mistake afterall.... COMPLETE!
1. Default Chapter

Cynehelme  
  
by kmf  
  
Rating: PG13 Warnings: AU Standard Disclaimer Applies  
  
Chapter One  
  
On cold mornings, such as this one was promising to be, it was easy to start to hate Prime. As much as Relena enjoyed the hours of meditation that prayer afforded her during the day, getting up before the sun and having to kneel on icy cold flag stones in the middle of winter was something that she would never get used to. Her knees were beginning to ache ill protected as they were by the rough woven wool of her dress. She was sure that if she stayed in her present position much longer she would rise with arthritic knees and hobble as Sister Gertrude did.  
  
A heartfelt sigh to her left drew her attention to Sister Dorothy. Instead of bowing her wimple encased head towards the cross that stood at the front of the chapel, Dorothy's eyes were cast up to the heavens. Not, Relena suspected, worshipping the God to whom she had so recently dedicated her life, but rather studying the high beamed ceiling of the little chapel that was attached to the nunnery. Not for the first time did Relena wonder just why Dorothy had chosen to become a nun, she really did not have the temperament nor the calling for it. Dorothy, sensing that someone was staring at her, turned her gaze towards Relena and raised one of her distinctive eyebrows as if daring Relena to tell on her to one of the senior nuns.  
  
Relena, not wishing any sort of confrontation, bowed her head again and tried to ignore the spreading numbness in her legs and school her thoughts back to those of the God that it was her destiny to serve. Her thoughts proved too wayward for her though and instead she found herself contemplating her own forthcoming vows and whether she should take them.  
  
She felt that she had no real calling to the church. Yes, she enjoyed the company of most of the novices and nuns and she enjoyed that she was privileged to learn things that most females would never have the chance to. She could read and write, her hand was judged most fair and she had started working on illuminations. She had even been trusted to work on copying some of the precious pages of the Book of Psalms that the order held.  
  
All these skills would not have been hers if she had not become the ward of the order. If she had remained with her family, she would have been betrothed and married some years ago. By now she could have been a wife and mother to several children. She was grateful that this was not the case; she could not see herself as a dutiful wife no more than she could see herself as a dutiful nun. But if neither vocation was for her, then what should she do? She raised her eyes to the cross on the altar before her and prayed for guidance.  
  
  
  
After Prime was over the sisters and novices walked to the refectory to break their fast. The fair was a simple one; coarse brown bread (softened with goats milk for those nuns who no longer had the benefit of all their teeth), porridge made from locally harvested oats and sweetened by a swirl of honey, and watered down mead. Relena wrinkled her nose as she sipped her drink. Very watered, she thought tasting the brew. There was scarcely any taste of mead in the mixture that was poured into Relena's pottery goblet.  
  
The sisters all ate silently, bar one. Sister Sally read scriptures as they ate reminding one and all of Gods bounty. The meal was a quick one, there was much to achieve during the course of the day and meals were not to be lingered over. As soon as Sally had finished reading, it would be time for the women to undertake the chores that enabled the abbey to function. Gardens had to be tended, floors to be swept and scrubbed and food for the next meal had to be prepared. Herbs had to be gathered and made into medicines for the small infirmary that was attached to the abbey. The patients there also had to be tended, and alms distributed to the poor that came daily to beg at the gates. In the afternoon once all the essential chores were done and before the pale light of the winter day had faded it would then be the time for other less pressing duties. Wool gathered from the abbey's flock of sheep had to be spun, the yarn dyed and woven into lengths of fabric that would be sold to bring in additional revenue for the upkeep of the order. Or there would be work to be done copying the precious psalms held by the nunnery. This was what Relena would work on.  
  
She had been little more than a baby when she had arrived at the nunnery, but as soon as she had reached an age to be of use she had been set to work. She had started by mixing pigments for the two old sisters who had worked for years copying the pages of the books. Once she had shown that she had both enthusiasm and aptitude, she had been granted the opportunity of copying text. She could not read at that point, but she had a good eye and a talent for copying the intertwined shapes that formed words. To her it was a simple matter to transfer the ink from the end of the quill to the fine creamy vellum sheets and she had been rewarded by being made apprentice to the old sisters. It was they who taught her to read what she wrote, and being a quick study she was soon able to comprehend what the beautiful shapes meant.  
  
The Mother Superior had been concerned that her two most skilled artists were becoming aged and that only one girl, who even if she took orders was destined for a life outside the abbey, was being trained to replace them. None of the other sisters showed any flair for the work, or any inclination. It had seemed, therefore, that God had heard her prayers and answered when two new nuns had arrived who both showed aptitude. Granted, the enthusiasm had been decidedly lacking, but that was not an essential.  
  
Sister Helen had been the first to arrive and had instantly become friends with Relena. Helen had listened well to Relena's instructions on how to mix pigments and she already knew how to read and write, although her hand was too clumsy as yet to be entrusted with the valuable vellum. She was a cheerful girl, her large blue eyes mischievous and happy. Relena could not help but feel happier when she was in the presence of Sister Helen.  
  
The next arrival, however, was a different matter. Sister Dorothy arrived a week or so after Helen and was the complete opposite. Where Helen was tall and broad, Dorothy was short and petite. Helen's hands were large, callused from hard work and a little clumsy, Dorothy's hands were delicate and white and looked like they had never done any labour. Dorothy had learnt quickly the tasks involved in producing the beautiful vellum pages, her hand being neat enough to be entrusted to the copying, but unfortunately she found no joy in it. The only joy she had from her days of toil was to sow little seeds of doubt into her fellow apprentices' minds.  
  
Relena knew exactly what Dorothy did, but could not help but let her soul be swayed by the prompting of the Sister. Didn't Relena want to know more about life? Didn't she want to know exactly who her family was? Didn't she want to know why she had been sent to the nunnery at such a young age? Was she born out of wedlock?  
  
To stop Dorothy's tongue, Relena had told her that no, she was not a bastard. Her parents were Christian and had sent her to the nunnery as a baby because they were thankful that God had blessed them with a peaceful kingdom and a fine strong son to be heir. This had not stopped Dorothy's prodding, however, but only increased it. She had wanted to know more about the kingdom, its defences, it strengths. At this point Sister Helen had come to Relena's rescue and told Dorothy to leave the girl in peace or else Helen would make sure everyone in the nunnery knew exactly why Dorothy was there. Dorothy's eyes had gleamed and she had gone very quiet. All questions ceased. From that moment on Dorothy and Helen did not speak to each other.  
  
Relena's attention was bought back to the present by those around her repeating the 'Amen' that Sister Sally had uttered. She grimaced as she realised that she had completely ignored the prayer and wondered what penance she would be given if Sally had noticed. Luck appeared to be on her side though, for the Sister walked to the head of the table, not sparing her a glance. Dorothy glared at her, Relena could see in her eyes that she thought that Relena was given favouritism. Sally cleared her throat, a little dry from the reading, and began to tell the women what their duties would be for the day.  
  
Hoping that she would be assigned a task in the kitchen, Relena crossed her fingers under the table. It was so cold out that she would prefer to be working by the hot ovens if she could. Unfortunately, it was not to be. Relena heard her name being called along with Dorothy's; their task was to go and gather winter herbs from the snowy woods. Sister Sally looked at both young women as she gave out the duties, her eyes sparkling. Relena knew then that her inattention had been detected and that the job that she dreaded was her punishment. It was confirmed when Sally announced that she too would gather herbs. For once, Dorothy and Relena empathised with each other; they were in for a lecture.  
  
Rising from the table, the women all scuttled to do their duties. Relena and Dorothy gathered up their warm woollen grey shawls. They were heavy and itched but were serviceable and would keep them from freezing. Their heads were already covered with wimples; Dorothy's topped with her nun's black veil and Relena in grey signifying that she had not taken vows. Sister Sally handed each girl a small wicker basket and a sharp bronze scythe to aid in the harvesting of the herbs they needed. Thus armed they left the convent in silence.  
  
At the gates to the enclosure that surrounded the Abbey the poor had gathered. As the women emerged, instantly hands were held out begging for any scrap that they had to spare. Relena hated this. She was from a rich family and never had to want for anything, a stipend being provided to the nunnery for her upkeep. However, being in the convent meant that she had no money of her own and nothing that she could give out. She whispered her apologies as she passed through the crowd, her head lowered and ashamed that she had a full stomach whilst these poor unfortunates were hungry. Dorothy, on the other hand, pushed her way through, her gaze alternating between a haughty one and an angry one when someone got too close to her. Sister Sally promised the people that alms would be distributed very soon and asked that they could be patient. At her quiet words the crowd of people parted to allow the three women through.  
  
Relena noticed a small child at the back of the crowd in a little ragged shift, shivering from the cold. The icy wind blew through her thin clothes, her eyes were hollow and dull. She looked like she was starving to death there on the steps of the Abbey. Relena paused and unwrapped her shawl. She bent and placed it on the child's shoulders.  
  
"There, that will keep you warm until the Sisters bring out food." she whispered tucking it in around the child's neck, ignoring the chills that the cold wind now gave her. She had the benefit of food in her stomach and layers of good linen and wool that made up her dress. She also knew that she had funds to replace the shawl, even though she knew that she would be scolded for its loss.  
  
The child stared up at her and made no response, but Relena expected none. Content that the child would not freeze on this day, she hurried to catch up the other two nuns. Dorothy was shaking her head in disbelief that Relena had given away her shawl on such a cold day. Sally also shook her head, but Relena saw a little smile, that gave away that Sally was happy that Relena had been charitable.  
  
They walked on in silence through the wood that flanked the Abbey. Sally refrained from lecturing them about the evils of not listening as they walked, instead gave them a lesson on what was suitable for harvest at this time of years in a wood that looked barren. The wood itself was very quiet, wild life such as squirrels and badgers were hibernating. There was evidence that deer had been there, snow had been scraped back to reveal a few green sprouts of grass that had been nibbled by the hungry animals. No bird song lightened the day, and this Relena wondered about. Usually when they walked in the forest at least a friendly robin would accompany them with its friendly chatter. But today there was nothing. After a while, even Sally fell quiet growing uneasy by the muffled silence of the snowy winter's day.  
  
After walking for what seemed to be for hours to Relena, her nose red and eyes watering from the icy cold wind, Sally stopped. Relena and Dorothy almost bumped into her so intent they were are just putting one foot in front of each other and dreaming of warm steamy kitchens and mulled wine. Sally was looking around, her usually cheerful eyes narrowed and considering. Relena heard what Sally had detected immediately; the crunching sound of footfall on frosted snow when they three had stopped walking.  
  
All three were immediately on guard. Their nuns' gowns were little protection in these wild times. Slavery was rife and virgin women commanded a high price in the ports to the south. Traders from the east imported high quality pottery known as Tintagel ware and would willingly trade many pieces for a woman. Relena felt herself grip her little scythe tightly as the footsteps grew near.  
  
Into the clearing walked Sister Helen, muffled in her shawl, her bright blue eyes cheerful and smile wide. She raised a hand in greeting as she saw the other women. Sally drew a breath of relief as she recognised the woman.  
  
"Sister, what are you doing here?" she asked as Helen approached them.  
  
"I had finished my duties and thought that I might be able to assist you." Helen replied, looking around the forest "I had not reckoned on you coming so far though, I thought for a moment that I would not be able to find you." A note or reproach crept into Helen's voice "These woods may not be as safe as you think."  
  
Sally raised an eyebrow at her tone. "We had to come far to find the herbs that I require." she said coolly and Helen seemed to recall that she was talking to her superior.  
  
"My apologies Sister Sally." Helen said, bowing her head. When she raised it she caught sight of Relena shivering now that they had stopped walking. Helen immediately pulled her own shawl off and wrapped it around the younger girl. "You look so very cold, and I am used to weather such as this." she said silencing Relena's protests "Although I cannot think what made you forget such a useful item on a day such as this."  
  
Dorothy snorted "She gave it away to a beggar brat." she said rolling her eyes "It is lucky that she did not give away the very shoes from her feet."  
  
Sally immediately reprimanded Dorothy "Would that everyone was as charitable; the world would be much improved for it."  
  
"Amen to that." Helen nodded, smiling softly at the now much warmer Relena. Relena blushed at the approval of two of her three companions.  
  
"Come, let us return. The day is cold and we are unlikely to find anything of use." Sally said starting to retrace her steps.  
  
She was restrained by a hand on her arm and looked down to see that Helen's large hand holding her. Helen placed a finger to her own lips as Sally opened her mouth to question her actions. She then pointed through the trees. All three women followed the gesture and saw in the distance partially obscured by the trees two figures walking towards them.  
  
As the figures approached they could see that it was two old men, both huddled in moth eaten cloaks, drawn up so that they covered their heads. One had his head tipped up so they could see that across his eyes was bound a length of dirty white cloth. His hands, one of which rested on his companions shoulder as he was guided through the snow, were also bandaged with cloth more black than white. His companion was in a better state, a cloth bound a space where once a nose would have resided, and in his hand he held a short staff that he used to help guide himself and his companion through the snow.  
  
Dorothy hissed and drew back "Lepers!" she exclaimed in horror and disgust whilst the other three relaxed.  
  
"Continue in this direction and you will come to our Abbey." called Sally "There you will find a place to rest a while." she glanced at Dorothy "We turn none away there." she said firmly.  
  
The lepers made no comment, but crept closer and soon they could smell the putrid stench of rotting flesh that hung about the pair. The blind ones mouth was pulled in a large smile and he muttered his thanks repeatedly showing that though teeth that still remained in his mouth, they were almost as black as his clothes. Relena resisted the urge to step back away from the pair, even though the smell was sickening. Dorothy, however, did nothing to disguise her disgust and held her shawl up to her nose. Both men were hobbling and Relena had to wonder just how far they had come and what damage they had to their feet.  
  
It was a complete surprise to all of them when the sighted leper sudden struck out with is staff catching Sally around the temple. Sally immediately crumpled to the ground leaving the other three to stare in amazement. Hoots and calls came from around; the attack on the nun had been a signal to the rest of the lepers group. Bandits appeared from behind trees where they had patiently been laying in wait, snow upon their shoulders and in their hair. There were eighteen or so, all lean men dressed in furs and armed with spears. In an instant they had surrounded the women.  
  
Dorothy glared at the lepers, her little scythe held high "You will be the first I will gut." she declared. The noseless one grinned back and swung his staff again only to have it stopped by the outstretched hand of Sister Helen.  
  
The leper grinned "You are strong for a woman!" he muttered, trying to pull the weapon back with both hands.  
  
"And you are quick for a leper." Helen smirked back "Perhaps we have both been deceived."  
  
With a quick wrench Helen tore the staff from the old mans hands and spun it professionally in the air. She jabbed at the man causing him to fall back, taking his blind friend with him. Helen then whirled around to face the approaching armed men. She glanced down at Relena who sat crouched beside the unconscious Sally.  
  
"Run!" she instructed as the men came closer. Relena shook her head determined not to leave her mentor lying in the snow, but Dorothy, who had been watching Helen closely, grabbed her by her arm and pulled her to her feet.  
  
"Do as he says!" she cried, trying to pull Relena along after her.  
  
Relena hesitated a moment before starting to run, evading the hands that reached to stop her. Her borrowed shawl was snagged by one of the men, but Relena shrugged it off and left him standing with less of a prize than he imagined he had caught. Her progress was swifter now that the material of her shawl no longer impeded her arms. Unfortunately, those pursuing her were not impeded with narrow underskirts and their progress was still swifter. Rough hands grabbed the back of her wimple catching her hair along with cloth and pulled her back, wrestling her to the ground.  
  
Her eyes stung with tears at the pain the sudden jarring gave her body. Her hand automatically went to the back of her wimple to reassure herself that she still had hair left after the viscous yank. The pins had come loose leaving the material gaping, but she had no time to put that to right. One of the men reached down and grabbed her by her neck of her tunic and pulled her roughly to her feet. He leered at her face.  
  
"This is a pretty one!" He commented grinning showing an incomplete set of yellowed teeth "She'll fetch a pretty price."  
  
Relena felt sick. Slavers she though as she was pushed down again into the snow, a spear held towards her body to stop her fleeing. Glancing to one side she saw Sister Sally being dragged towards her, her face bleeding but her eyes open and aware of her surroundings. Dorothy had also been captured, but not before inflicting damage on two of the men with her little scythe. Her face was bruised in punishment and her hands bound behind her back but she looked unrepentant. Her distinctive eyebrows frowning imperiously at her captors.  
  
Another two men approached, one nursing what looked like a broken arm. He was being teased by the other at having been beaten by a woman. The one that had caught Relena questioned them asking where the fourth nun was. The second man grinned.  
  
"Had to skewer her." he said "She will fetch nothing now with her breasts ruined."  
  
Relena eyes widened in shock, and turned trying to locate her friend. She spotted the woman in the distance lying sprawled in the bloody snow. As Relena tried to get to her feet the man who had captured her pushed her to the ground.  
  
"Where are you going my lovely?" he asked accepting a length of half cured hide, long and narrow from another in his band of men. He tied one length around her throat as if he was tying a dog, careful that it was not too tight as to make it difficult for her to breathe. "Best you keep up with us else that knot will slip tighter around your pretty little neck and you'll find yourself with your God sooner than you bargained." He pulled her to her feet and grasped her wimple. "From your grey colours you have not pledged yourself to your God yet, so you should have your hair." he peered at her closely, his breath rank and close causing her to wince and pull pack from him. Unfazed her continued "I'm guessing you are fair." he said, pulling the wimple away uncaring of the pins that scratched her skin. He smiled in satisfaction seeing that she did indeed still have long hair bound in tight plaits. "Ha! I'm right." he bent his head closer to hers and she pulled away in panic, the noose around her neck tightening.  
  
A staff rapped over the man's knuckles causing him to drop the lead and yelp in pain. Relena blinked at her saviour and saw that the ragged noseless man stood there, his staff retrieved from Sister Helen. "Leave her alone Ulrich!" he growled. Ulrich glared, but nodded moving back showing deference to his leader. The old man nodded and Sally and Dorothy were pulled forward so that they both stood next to Relena. Their wimples had also been removed revealing close-cropped hair. Both women looked defiantly at their captor, Sally putting a protective arm around Relena.  
  
"What? No demands of pity?" the old man chortled, his fellow leper joining in, his hand once more on the noseless ones shoulder.  
  
"Slavers have no pity or mercy." Sally said, her eyes narrowed and fists clenched.  
  
The old man snorted. "Bind their hands!" he demanded "And if they make any utterance, bind their mouths as well. Then we make haste away from here before we are discovered."  
  
Relena winced as Ulrich pulled her hands forward and bound them tightly. As the band followed their apparently leprous leader, Relena could do nothing but follow like a dog on a leash.  
  
  
  
TBC 


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Thank to all those that read and reviewed. LOL, no I havent stopped writing although it might seem like it has been a while. I have been writing an Inuyasha story, together with working with Goldberry and Iris Anthe on a GW fic called Maids of Silvia (not yet posted, but look out for it cause its good ^_^)  
  
BTW, if anyone wants to know when I update, just add me to your author alerts as I subscribe to ff.net. Hope you enjoy this chapter in which Heero is introduced ^_^  
  
Cynehelme  
  
by kmf  
  
Warnings: AU Rating: PG13 Standard Disclaimer applies  
  
Chapter Two  
  
Lying as still as possible the nun known as Sister Helen watched as the raiding party moved off pulling their new captives in their wake. Eyes narrowed in anger and frustration that the capture could not have been prevented. Only when the band had moved out of eyesight did a cold white hand come up to assess the damage inflicted by the spear. Blood drenched the wool habit, but a free flowing wound was not necessarily a bad thing. A good flow of blood would stop infection, but it was equally important to stop the flow of blood before weakness overtook and death resulted. The hand groped gingerly, and a deep hiss of pain resulted.  
  
The hand pulled out from inside the habit two small bags of grain that had hung around Helen's neck, over 'her' chest. A small laugh escaped the pale lips; as odious as it had been to dress as a woman and a nun it seemed that the fake breasts had saved him from a mortal wound. He watched as grain spilled out of one of the bags to lie on the snowy ground, before dropping it and again touching the wound. Pulling away again the hand was held up to blue eyes. From the amount of blood on the hand the blood loss was easing.  
  
"Shit! Heero is going to kill me!" The voice was no longer the soft voice of a nun, but now deep and gruff from pain. "Duo, how in the hell did you get into this mess?" he asked rhetorically, before pulling the veil and wimple from his head revealing long chestnut hair tied back in a leather thong  
  
Of course, he knew exactly how he came to be in the middle of a wood in winter with a spear hole in his shoulder: Heero. Always it came back to Heero. Every reckless moment in his life had had it source in Heero; his foster brother, his war-band leader, his Prince.  
  
Duo was a man of Mercia, one of the eight kingdoms that made up Britain. East Saxons, Wessex, Hwicce, Sussex, Lindsey, East Anglia, Kent and Mercia were all kingdoms that had sprouted from the confusion and conflict that erupted when Rome abandoned Britain. A War Leader had ruled each realm and each had fought bitterly against one another in order to gain lands and prestige. Until, that is until Aethelbert Peacecraft became King of Kent and through skilful fighting and a keen sense of diplomacy became High King of England.  
  
Peace had come to the warring lands, peace that had lasted for several generations and which had culminated in the golden reign of the present High King Peacecraft. He had taken to wife a Christian Frankish princess and Peacecraft had converted to Christianity to please his new wife and also because he was enthralled with the doctrine. Their union had been blessed with a strong healthy son, Millardo. And when the second baby was conceived and difficulties in the pregnancy were encountered, the queen had dedicated the life of her unborn child to God if that child would be spared.  
  
And so when their second child Relena was born healthy and strong the King had promised her to a prosperous Abbey and had granted the church a dowry of 150 hides of land*, a kingly gift indeed. No more children resulted from the marriage, the queen dying soon after the baby's birth, but Peacecraft was happy with the two children he had begotten. One was to be trained as a prince and leader of his kingdom, whilst the other was to take religious orders and be trained as the advisor of kings. Together he had thought that his children would create the most peaceful and prosperous paradise where all kingdoms could co-exist in harmony.  
  
Unfortunately, this vision was now in danger of not coming to pass. Word had come to Mercia that the King of Lindsay had met with a fatal accident whilst hunting and that he was succeeded by an infant son of no more than three years of age. Soon after that it was heard that the child king and his regent mother had died from a mysterious illness and that the leader of the war band, Treize Kushrinada, had taken the crown for himself.  
  
Odin, King of Mercia, had been disturbed by the news. Regicide, whilst uncommon, was not unheard of. It did not surprise him that rumours pointed to Treize being responsible for all three deaths; the man had a reputation for ruthlessly promoting his own interests. But what made the hairs rise on the back of Odin's neck was that he sensed Treize would not be satisfied with just one kingdom. Odin had quickly dispatched part of his war band to patrol Mercia's borders with Lindsay and his fears were confirmed when the patrol returned with tales of peasants being drafted into the Lindsay army.  
  
Duo winced as he gathered up icy snow in the sheer material of the veil he had been wearing and pressed it against the spear wound high on his chest. He shook his head remembering the day when Odin had summoned Heero and Duo to discuss what to do. They had all been full of suggestions, eager to go and do battle with Treize, but Odin had held up his hand in protest and had said that he desired to protect the peace that the Peacecraft dynasty had worked so hard for, not destroy it. No, the King had decided, the war band would not attack Treize, but rather a delegation would be dispatched to talk to the High King to advise him of the danger and to seek his guidance on what to do.  
  
Both Duo and Heero had been disappointed with this approach, but whilst Heero had wisely kept his peace, Duo had let his tongue run away with him. He had not meant to be disrespectful to the King, it was just that having been fostered by the ruler at an early age he considered him more a father than a king. And Heero had not helped, silently nodding in agreement to everything Duo said about honour in war, and the glory of battle. Unfortunately the King had only focused on what his foster son said and not what is blood son did. Finally the King had raised his hand and called for Duo to stop his speech.  
  
"Very well." he had said, his eyes glittering in the smoky firelight of the hall in which they had sat. "I will give you the opportunity to perform deeds that will be remembered in song for many years hence." Duo had puffed up in pride. "You will protect Relena Peacecraft for I am sure she is key to Kushrinada's plan. If he kills the High King and his son and then weds the daughter he will have a firm claim through her to the crown."  
  
Duo had nodded content with an image of rescuing a beautiful maiden in distress until he saw Heero's eyes narrow. "She is a nun." Heero had said, "The Sisters trust in their God, they are unlikely to trust in a strange man's sword for their protection."  
  
"She is a novice and has not yet sworn herself to her God." Odin corrected, sipping from his ale cup. "But it is true that they would not accept your sword whatever the danger." His eyes had twinkled as he looked at Duo "That is why you must become to them a nun and protect her secretly."  
  
The snorts and laughs haunted Duo to this day. Duo had wanted to protest, but the Kings word was final and he had to obey. And so he became Sister Helen. The women of the Kings Hall delighted in dressing him and instructing him on how to take small steps as a woman would, and how to disguise his height by stooping a little. Hilde, the woman who was promised to him took particular delight in making him false breasts from little sacks of grain. When he had protested that they did not feel right, she had slapped him and asked curtly just who would be feeling them in a nunnery?  
  
Hilde had been heart broken to see him go; she had given him many warnings to keep his eyes to himself and not to be swayed by Christian temptresses. Duo had laughingly told her as he kissed her good bye that only ugly women would lock themselves away from men and that he only had eyes for his beauteous Hilde. Relena Peacecraft, however, had proven to be the very opposite of ugly.  
  
Relena had been especially kind to him when he arrived at the Abbey, nervous and uncertain of the holy women's regime. Her pale blue eyes had shined with innocence and kindness. Her face, though shrouded with veils, was pale and lovely and Duo had been sure that once the nuns habit was stripped away, her body would be equally as lovely. And she was intelligent, as she was lovely. She could read and write, something that only sons of Kings could do in his tribe, and her voice when singing psalms was clear and true. Her innocence enticed him as once Hilde had enticed him. At night time Duo was almost relieved that they were all shut into their separate little cells so that the temptation that was Relena was removed from him. He would shut his eyes and think hard of Hilde and the damage that she would do to him if she knew that he was straying.  
  
At regular intervals he would meet up with Heero and the war band in the woods that the Abbey was next to and report that all was well and that no attempt had been made to steal the princess away. Heero was curious about the girl, and Duo in a fit of jealousy and protectiveness had told Heero that she was an ugly girl, tall and hulking with bad breath and a limp. "Like you as a woman then!" had come a cry from one of the men of the war band who easily evaded Duo's fist due to Duo's movements being restricted by his tight underskirt. Heero had merely raised an eyebrow and nodded, given instructions that they would meet in another two weeks and had ridden away.  
  
Duo perked up somewhat, as he shakily got to his feet. The two weeks were almost up so Heero would be close. If it did not snow again, the band would easily see the tracks and blood and determine that some sort of melee had taken place. In the meantime, he would track the fleeing slavers and see if an opportunity arose that would enable him to snatch his princess back.  
  
His eyes narrowed. Her purity should be safe; virgins commanded a premium where trade was concerned. However, that did not mean that she wouldn't be debased in other ways. Duo was determined to prevent that, or die trying. Mentally he apologised to his faithful Hilde before trudging off in the direction that the slavers had gone.  
  
  
  
* * * *  
  
  
  
Heero frowned as he surveyed the land around him from the back of his horse waiting for the scout he had sent out to return. He absently watched as his breath misted in the cold winter's air and he shifted his weight slightly trying to allow the blood to circulate to his legs again. He and his men had been riding hard for days, ever since they had been given the dire news.  
  
Peacecraft, King of Kent, High King of the Britons was dead along with his son Millardo and his son's pregnant wife Lucrezia. Treize Kushrinada and his warband had put them all to the sword. Kushrinada had then declared himself the new High King. Kent was in turmoil, half the population outraged that their King had been murdered, whilst the other half were content to accept anyone as King so long as it preserved the peace that had always had. The threat of civil war was great and Odin foresaw that Treize would now attempt to acquire the last remaining Peacecraft and secure his hold on the kingdom via her.  
  
Heero's leather gloved hand gripped tightly on the rein of his horse causing the animal to snort and fidget. He forced himself to calm down and stroked the neck of the animal whilst still looking towards the snowy woods. After Odin had given him the news he had instructed Heero to immediately return to the Abbey that housed the last remaining Peacecraft and key to the throne of Britain. He was to ensure her safety and bring her back to the Kingdom of Mercia. Heero agreed with his father's actions; if Treize became High King then demands of tributes would be sure to follow and threats of war if they were not fulfilled.  
  
Unfortunately it seemed they had not acted swiftly enough. Upon arriving at the Abbey they had found that the Abbey had closed its gates to all visitors, the nuns sequestering themselves to pray. Heero had then visited the village near the Abbey together with several members of the band. They moved cautiously unsure of whom they would encounter, making sure that their cloaks hid the steel swords that hung from their belts. Frightened people would not talk; it was best to gain their confidence by acting as simple travellers.  
  
Their caution paid off. Rumours flew around the little village that four nuns had disappeared whilst they were walking in the wood. Heero had exchanged a brief glance with Trowa who immediately understood his warlord's command and disappeared into the woods to hunt for signs. Heero and the rest of the band stayed long enough in the village to find out that no one knew where the women had gone. It was suspected that they had disturbed a hungry bear and had suffered the consequences. Satisfied that he would learn no more, Heero returned to where his war band lay in wait, mounted his horse and followed Trowa's footprints into the wood.  
  
A bird whistled, bright and clear, and Heero held his hand up to stop the forward movement of his men. Trowa appeared in the distance, trotting in a naturally graceful rhythm despite the snow that clung to his leather shoes. His breath puffed white at regular intervals in the freezing cold of the winter evening, but he was no means winded. He clambered up on his horse that had been led by one of the men and gestured with his head the way he had come.  
  
"They were attacked just up there. One was injured and left behind - Duo at a guess given the depth of the footprint. He has followed after leaving markers on trees". Trowa lifted a hand showing a little strip of material. "No horses, all on foot."  
  
Heero nodded and could not help but smile. "So Duo has found a way to rid himself of his habit!" he said before his smile faded and he issued a brief instruction to his men "Lets ride hard. I feel the need for a fight before nightfall." He urged his horse into motion by pressing his heels into the animal's flank and letting loose a whoop.  
  
The war band answered back with whoops of their own and the hunt was on.  
  
  
  
* * * *  
  
It was early evening before the slavers chose to stop satisfied that they had left all possibility of pursuit behind. They had travelled to the edge of the forest further than Relena had ever in her memory been. Before them stretched a vista of rolling down lands, white with snow and barren in the dull gloom of twilight. The clouds hung heavy and low threatening to shed yet more snow upon the winter frosted ground and Relena did not believe she had ever felt so cold.  
  
Relena was once again bereft of her shawl. The man who had failed to catch her when she had tried to flee had retained it. He had taunted her with it several times during their enforced march, rubbing it up against himself and blowing her kisses. She had hung her head in embarrassment, her checks red with more than just the chill of the air.  
  
Her fellow sisters faired little better. Sally was still a little dazed from the blow she had received to her head, although as evening approached she was becoming more herself. Dorothy still had a look of cold disdain upon her face, sneering at every man that dared to catch her eye. However when they were allowed to stop walking and to rest the look of defiance faded from both women's eyes as the cold began to creep into their bones. They all missed their veils, without that covering they had nothing to protect their heads from the cold. Relena was a little more fortunate with her long hair covering her ears and her neck, but Sally and Dorothy both had the shorn hair of nuns to signify their humility and willingness to sacrifice their vanity for God.  
  
They huddled together to try and gain some warmth whilst they looked on at the men setting up camp. A small fire was made using deadwood from the fringe of the forest. Most was wet and it was a struggle to get it lit even though dry tinder had been carried. Once it was lit, it smoked appallingly and burned cold so that all the men had to huddle around it to get any benefit.  
  
Once the bond on their hands had been checked, the women were left to their own devices. Warnings were issued for them not to try and escape; wolves roamed freely and were hungry this time of year. Dorothy had snorted, but looked about, her face pale, when she did hear distant howls. After that she ceased to worry at her bonds and sat quietly only shivering now and then.  
  
Eventually the noseless man and his blind companion wandered over to them. The noseless one threw them each a strip of dried meat, and crouched down to regard them grinning slightly as they stared back. Finally Relena spoke  
  
"Why?" she asked, her voice breaking from fatigue, cold and shock.  
  
"Money." the noseless one replied "Nothing more, nothing less."  
  
Sally shook her head in disgust, before narrowing her eyes and glaring at them "You are not even lepers, are you?"  
  
"Merchants." Noseless gave an ironic smile "Once very successful, but our ship was attacked by seawolves, our gold stolen, our brothers killed. Jay and I were lucky to survive." his lip curled as he took in his brother's appearance and absently rubbed where his nose once had been. "A ship is a very pricey thing. In order to become merchants again we need enough gold to obtain one. Virgins command a high price in the slave trade, and nuns are guaranteed to be virgins." He grinned at Dorothy's snort of disgust. "You mustn't hate Jay and me." he said "You should be grateful. Believe me, your new masters will pay a fortune for you all and will treat you well."  
  
"For a little while." J cackled, rocking backwards and forwards.  
  
Noseless ignored his brother "You will live like Princesses, dressed in oriental silk and velvet in such luxury as you have never dreamed of." he continued "The price of your virginity is such a small thing to pay."  
  
Sally found her voice, her eyes narrowing "Are you trying to justify this outrage to us or to yourself, slaver?"  
  
The noseless man suddenly got to his feet. Glaring he turned and led his brother away. Dorothy rolled her eyes.  
  
"If you had been a bit nicer we might have been given blankets for the night." She said as she raised the dried meat strip to her mouth with her bound hands and attempted to chew it.  
  
Sally shook her head "I will not prostitute myself for silks, nor blankets, nor food." She threw the meat away from her in disgust. "I have sworn myself to God and I will die before I allow myself to be touched by any man." she looked sideways at Relena who was staring at the meat that lay in the folds of her habit with obvious hunger in her eyes. "That is my choice Relena. Yours is your own. You have not yet made your vows so you should eat." Sally looked at Dorothy who was chewing hard "I see that you have already made your decision."  
  
Dorothy sniggered as she ate "If I have, it is the first time in years that I have been allowed to. I made no willing vow to God. It was not my choice to become what I am. I made a mistake and this" she gestured at her hair "is my punishment. Rest assured that I will never allow myself to passively go where I am directed again. I will never become a slave. But nor will I solve this by starving myself to death."  
  
Relena looked at Dorothy in surprise; of course some women were forced to become nuns through poverty or lack of suitors. Sometimes widows would take orders when they had no family to live with. However ill suited Dorothy was to be a nun, Relena had never considered that she was one as a punishment for a deed.  
  
Dorothy smirked at her before attacking her meat again. Sally bowed her head. "Each to their own." she murmured before starting to pray. Relena watched her for a moment trying to gain comfort from the words she uttered, but her stomach was protesting too much for her to find any solace in the prayer. She closed her eyes willing herself to ignore the discomfort when she suddenly felt a nudge on her leg. Opening her eyes she saw that Dorothy had kicked her. She opened her mouth to protest, but Dorothy shook her head.  
  
"Listen" she mouthed, and Relena did.  
  
The camp had gone quiet, the men were looking about hands gripped on spears peering into the gloom of the night. The noseless merchant had started back towards them leaving his brother behind crouched in the snow. A sudden whooping yell startled them all, Sally's eyes sprung open as she cried "Dear God, what now!"  
  
Out of the trees came men on horses, a good dozen, yelling war cries and swinging swords. The slavers gaped and tried to defend themselves but spears were of little use against the rare expensive swords that these newcomers carried. Cries of pain and fear rose as swords shattered spears and sank into flesh. Jay sprang up, his hands held out before him calling for his brother. The merchant ignored his brother and ran towards the women. Dorothy clambered to her feet, her eyes determined.  
  
"Flee!" she screamed at Sally and Relena who needed no further urging. They all ran in separate directions. Noseless hesitated, then followed the richest prize of the three women - the one with long golden hair. Relena, looking back, saw that she was being pursued and tried to put on extra speed. She was hampered by her bound hands and could not find an easy natural rhythm to run at.  
  
Thundering hoofs sounded near and she looked back to see a warrior chasing her and the slaver. The warrior was a terrifying sight, his cloak flew back in the night air, his messy brown hair flying in the wind. His horse worked hard, foam around its mouth and great puffs of steam issuing from its nostrils so that it looked for an instant like a dragon. The eyes were narrowed, but even in Relena's terror she could see they were unusually deep blue and cold. He was laughing, a fighting lust upon him. His sword arm was held high, his blade already slick with red blood. The slaver also turned to see the warrior approach and gave a high scream as the blade swing down cutting him from shoulder to waist. As the scream faded, the warrior's laugh burst forth anew.  
  
Blood arced high from the cut, showing the snow. Relena felt hot drops land across her face and felt sick with panic as the man showed no sign of slowing, instead rode directly at her. His mouth was still pulled into a cruel smile and Relena felt little doubt as to what he intended. She spun and ran again from the pursuing warrior and the death he held for her.  
  
  
  
TBC  
  
*1 hide - 150 acres, enough land to support a family 


	3. Chapter 3

A great big thanks to all those who read and reviewed, Im pleased that you are enjoying the story so far. A warning for this chapter though, it is a little more blood thirst than I usually write but I felt that it needed to be put in to show that Heero is a warrior and he does kill people.  
  
Special thanks to Iris Anthe for kindly being my beta reader and also to Goldberry who picked up on my favourite scene in this chapter. ^_^  
  
  
  
Cynehelme  
  
By kmf  
  
Rating: PG13 Warnings: AU, violence Standard Disclaimer Applies  
  
Chapter Three  
  
  
  
Heero hated pushing the horses after they had been ridden so hard for days but he had a gut feeling that they were close to the nun and her captors and he did not want to risk losing her. When Trowa had informed them that their prey was on foot, Heero was sure that they were dealing with a petty band of thieves or slavers. Whilst he was relieved that Kushrinada had not yet sent men to take the Peacecraft heir, he could not be certain that they were not close. If the bandits encountered the Kushrinada war band before Yuy's men, Heero was in for a major battle rather than a small skirmish. A hard battle did not frighten him, indeed he looked forward to the moment when he actually got to test his skill against Kushrinada, but he did not want to put the Peacecraft heir at risk. Not when the peace of the Kingdom was at risk.  
  
After dusk had fallen they dismounted to start leading their horses through the gloom. Heero was unwilling to risk injuring the horses for the sake of speed, but nor was he willing to stop. His men, hardened warriors, had no trouble keeping up the pace and did so without complaint. His war band was made up of twelve men he had long trained with and trusted.  
  
Whilst the Kingdoms had been at peace for many generations, that did not mean that minor skirmishes didn't occur. Borders had to be patrolled regularly to try and prevent raiding parties from minor tribes who were greedy for wealth in the form of grain, meat and women. Heero had led his war band for two summers and was renown as a skilled fighter and leader, although a young one. Heero well remembered the murmurs of dissent that had greeted his father's decision to trust him with a troop of his own because he was known to be young. However, those whispers had faded as he had proved time and time again how skilled he was in all aspects of leadership.  
  
A grey blur against the snow accompanied by a small owl's hoot announced that Trowa had once more returned from scouting ahead. Trowa signalled the rest of the warriors to stop, holding a hand up and pointing behind him. Heero peered past the man and in the distance could just see a faint orange glow of a distant campfire. He grinned as he realised that they had caught up with their prey. Another figure joined Trowa and Heero saw with hidden gladness that it was Duo, looking tired and cold but determined.  
  
Silently Heero embraced his foster brother, taking in the wound in his shoulder and gauging the amount of blood loss. Duo grinned silently assuring Heero that he was not in any danger. Explanations of what had happened would wait for later, for now it was time to plan an attack. They spoke in whispers; sounds travelled easily in the cold frosty air of night and they did not want to alert their prey of their presence. All twelve warriors crouched in a small circle as Trowa outlined what he had seen in the bandits' camp.  
  
"There are eighteen in total. Slavers. They're all by the camp fire. The women are to the east by a large tree, bound but not secured. They seem in good health." He said quickly.  
  
As soon as Trowa mentioned the trade of the men who they hunted, Heero's eyes narrowed. Their occupation effectively sealed their fate. Heero hated slavers; he despised their trade and the misery that they left behind them. No mercy would be given to any of the men that sat blissfully unaware around their campfire.  
  
"Weapons?" Heero asked in order to calculate how much of a threat they posed to him and his men.  
  
Duo supplied the answer "Spears only. Most are proficient but not expert."  
  
Heero paused and gave Duo a surprised look, his eyes upon the wound that a 'not very proficient' slaver had managed to inflict upon him. Duo read the look and scowled, looking down at the snow.  
  
"Look, I'm not used to fighting in a dress, and certainly not with wheat breasts putting me off balance. And I didn't have my blade," he justified himself.  
  
The rest of the men snorted at the remembrance of Duo's grain bag breasts, and even Heero could not refrain from his mouth twitching into a little smile. He held his hands up in a passive gesture wanting to calm his embarrassed brother. Heero nodded at one of his men who moved to one of the horses and returned carrying a short sword in a birch bark lined scabbard covered in heavy linen and decorated with embroidery made up of intertwined knots and swirls. The warrior held it out to Duo, who took it reverently.  
  
"Hilde made the scabbard for it in your absence and sends her greetings to you." Heero said.  
  
Duo stared at the design and felt sudden guilt as he discerned that the knots were love knots and that this was a message from Hilde signifying her regard for her betrothed. Pushing the guilt away, he nodded as he pulled the blade part way out of the sheath. The cold metal gleamed in the moonlight and Duo felt a whole man again. Too long had he been parted from his weapon. He pressed his lips against the cold metal kissing it as he would a lover. Looking up he grinned and strapped the belt around his waist patting the scabbard in contentment  
  
Heero felt curiosity as he saw the flash of guilt in Duo's eyes as he regarded the scabbard, and made a mental note to question him later when they were in private. Heero felt a great protectiveness towards Hilde, a girl who his father had taken in to foster when her father had died. Heero was sure that he would not allow Duo's wandering eye to hurt her. But there was time for that later, for now they had to plan their attack and rescue the nuns.  
  
Taking up a small stick Heero started to draw in the snow. "We will lead the horses near, surround the camp and at my signal attack on horseback. We will need to be swift, they could scatter in a dozen directions. If they make the trees they will be difficult to track tonight. Be sure to allow no harm to come to the women. Only Duo knows what the Peacecraft woman looks like, but she is supposed to be big and plain."  
  
Trowa glanced at Duo an eyebrow raised. "Perhaps Peacecraft is not there then for I saw none that matched that description."  
  
Heero narrowed his eyes again and turned to Duo, who had the grace to blush a little but remain silent. This was getting more and more interesting. Had Duo lied about what Peacecraft looked like because he was enamoured of her? With a look that promised Duo that he would explain fully later, Heero went on. "Whatever she looks like, make sure that none of the women leave the camp. I want to sleep this night, not look for nuns in the snow." he glanced at Duo again "Describe the man who stabbed you so that we will leave him alone for you to deal with."  
  
When he was finished, all nodded that they had understood the instructions and returned to their horses. They had to move slowly to skirt around the enemy encampment without being detected. The snow had frozen and crunched alarmingly underfoot if not careful. The horses' hooves were wrapped in cloth to help muffle their footfall, but even so they could not approach in absolute silence. Heero smirked as he realised that the bandits were so sure of their escape that they had not even posted sentries. That would be their downfall, and for being so foolish they deserved it.  
  
When they had nearly surrounded the camp the bandits realised that something was wrong. All chatter stopped and Heero saw them peer into the gloom in alarm, hands going to spears, muscles taut in worry and readiness. He grinned. They were too late. His band of men had trapped them; there would be no escape for any of these thieves. He climbed up onto the back of his horse, pulled his sword from its scabbard and held it up high.  
  
Giving a loud whoop, Heero urged his horse forward. His signal was repeated by his other men and they all rode into the camp, swords held high reflecting the orange of the fire. Swinging down Heero felt his blood lust rise as his blade cut into a spearman. The man dropped to the ground silently, and Heero tightly wheeled his horse to chase another that was fleeing. Cries of alarm and defiance echoed in the night and Heero laughed in reply, the joy of battle upon him. His blade decapitated another man sending arcs of blood spewing across the white snow.  
  
Looking around he spotted the women in the distance all running away. He cursed their idiocy; didn't they know that they were being rescued? He hesitated for a moment wondering which to chase. His decision was made as he saw a man running after a small woman with long golden hair. Heero felt laughter bubble in his chest again as he urged his horse to pursue the slaver. The man hearing his laugh turned and looked at him in horror before screaming and running as fast as he could. Heero had no mercy and swung his blade down catching the man's shoulder, the sharp edge of the sword slicing him through to the waist. Heero could not help the laugh of victory that burst forth again.  
  
The woman was looking at up him in horror, backing slightly before touching her bound hands to her face. Pulling them away he saw her regard her captor's blood where it had splattered upon her. She looked back up at him, her eyes focussing on his mouth that was still pulled into a grin. Her eyes went wide before she spun on her heals and ran.   
  
Heero's mirth left him immediately, sobered by her look of horror. He grunted in irritation knowing that his laugh had frightened her. However, he was also annoyed that she had chosen to flee. He urged his horse forward again, swinging his blade to clean it of some of the gore that was upon it. He looked around checking to see that no other slavers were about before giving all his attention to the fleeing nun.  
  
As he got closer, he swung down from his horse and hit the ground running. He could hear her panicked breathing as he caught her, tackling her around her narrow hips and pulling her to the ground. She let out a shriek as they fell, that was cut off by the impact of the hard snowy ground. For a second she was still and Heero almost let her go, and then she started to struggle for all she was worth.  
  
Her bound hands struck at him, catching him a glancing blow around the side of his head. It was a lucky strike that caused his ears to ring in pain. He growled in his irritation and pinned her arms above her head. Finding that she could no longer use her arms, she instead used her legs kicking up at him catching his unprotected groin.  
  
Heero cursed as his eyes watered and resisted the urge to strike her back. Instead he said as calmly as he could "Hold still, I will not harm you." But she did not listen and still struggled, her eyes wide and frightened. Heero used his entire body weight to pin her down so that she could not move. His face close to hers he stared into her pale blue eyes until the panic faded and she actually focused on him.  
  
She was beautiful even in the sorry dishevelled state she was in. Her golden blond hair spread around her head like a halo, her skin was pale and soft. Her lips were full and a soft delicate shade of pink and Heero found himself strangely drawn to them. As he felt her body still under his he wondered what it would be like to taste those lips. His head dipped down even closer to hers so that he could smell her and feel the warmth that radiated from her skin.  
  
A sudden blow to his side brought him back to himself. Hissing in pain he looked up to see another nun, her eyes narrowed in rage, her strange forked eyebrows drawn together and her foot pulled back to deliver another blow.  
  
"Get off her!" the nun hissed, kicking again. Heero let go of the girl under him so he could intercept the next kick with his hands. Grabbing onto her leather slipper encased foot he pulled her trapped leg up causing her to fall back into the snow. He blinked as some very un-maiden like curses issued from her lips.  
  
The longhaired nun, now free of most of his weight, shoved him off her and started to try and crawl away. Heero was getting annoyed by now and grabbed her hair to stop her moving far. He pulled her back, not so sharply as to cause her a lot of pain, but firmly enough so that she gasped and held still.  
  
"Don't make me repeat myself. I mean you no harm," he grunted, his free hand rubbing at his ribs as he glared at the shorn haired nun. Anything else he was about to say was cut off by a blow to the back of his head. Dazed he found himself lying prone on the ground, the long haired girl desperately trying to pull her hair free from his grip. Looking up he saw the third nun with a log of wood in her hand that she had apparently used to hit him over the head.  
  
"You animal!" she cried "How dare you try and rape a nun!"  
  
In his surprise he let his grip of the girl's hair loosen and she pulled free, standing surprisingly quickly and edging away to stand with the nun who had just hit him.  
  
"Don't you women listen!" he said, checking his hand to see if his head bled "I am not trying to hurt you I'm trying to-"  
  
Another kick impacted on his ribs and the forked eyebrow nun spat at him, before looking behind him, eyes widening. Heero suppressed a groan. His could hear his war band approaching and knew that he would never hear the end of being brought down by three nuns. Again the three women made to flee, and again Heero lunged for the legs of the pretty blond, pulling her down with his body weight. As he lay across her he braced himself for another attack from the other two, but it never came.  
  
Looking up he saw that Trowa held the one wielding a log and was in the process of disarming her, whilst it took two to restrain the short blonde one whose language was at the point of making even some of the war band blush. His own nun was struggling so hard Heero was sure she was going to hurt herself. He was about to knock her unconscious when Duo suddenly crouched beside them and placed his hands on the frightened girl's shoulders.  
  
"Relena!" Duo said softly trying to calm the girl. Heero felt shock as he realised that he was restraining the High King's heir. He gave Duo a look that promised his foster brother that he would have to explain exactly why he had told Heero that Relena was a large ugly woman. Duo, intent on the wide-eyed girl, ignored him.  
  
Relena had turned her head towards Duo, her eyes puzzled. Heero could see that she was wondering just how the warrior knew her name. Duo continued to talk "Relena, it is alright. We won't harm you, we are here to rescue you," he said, rewarded with seeing that Relena stopped struggling. Recognition dawned in her eyes and her mouth opened in shock.  
  
"Helen?" she asked, going quite still as Duo nodded. Heero took the opportunity to get off the girl and pull her so that she was sitting up. She reached up her bound hands to touch Duo's face as if reassuring herself that she was not talking to a ghost. Heero watched the gesture and felt an odd sensation in the pit of his stomach. Irritated, he pulled her hands back ignoring her startled gasp. He unsheathed a dagger held in the leather bindings around his calf and carefully cut through the ropes that bound her. She kept her gaze on Duo, wincing as the blood started to circulate through cold swollen wrists. Heero rubbed them, careful of her fragility; his hands seeming in his mind large and clumsy in comparison with her delicate structure.  
  
Trowa's captive was looking at Duo in horror and amazement and paid little attention to Trowa undoing her bonds. "You are Helen?" she whispered, her face pale and her eyes angry "You were a man in my nunnery!" her voice was becoming louder as her temper got the better of her.  
  
Duo winced. "I can explain-" he began, holding his hands up in front of him.  
  
"Oh really, Sister!" eyebrow nun was rolling her eyes. "How could you think that he was a woman?"  
  
"You knew Dorothy?" the other nun said in irritation and amazement "And you didn't say."  
  
Heero felt Relena shiver as he massaged her wrists, her eyes still on Duo, her gaze a little dazed. He got to his feet pulling her up with him.  
  
"Enough." he said, "Once we make camp there will be time for explanations." He took his cloak off and wrapped it around Relena's shoulders then led her over to his horse. "We will put a couple of miles between us and this filth before we camp."  
  
Heero climbed up onto his horse before reaching down and pulling Relena up before him. He saw Duo look up at them giving Relena a wistful look. Relena was no longer looking at Duo, but rather holding her head down staring at her lap. For some reason it gave him a perverse sense of joy.  
  
"What about burying the dead?" The older nun said gesturing around at the slavers who had all been slain their blood staining the snow pink.  
  
Heero snorted "Let nature look after their wretched carcasses. I will spare neither time nor award them any honour by burning them." He ignored her look of disgust, instead pulled Relena tighter to him. Spurring his horse into movement he took her away as fast as he could from the now eerily quiet campsite.  
  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
  
  
Relena allowed herself to be lifted up onto the warrior's horse without protesting. Her mind was whirling with the sickening scenes of the slavers being cut down, their blood staining the pure white snow, their screams echoing in the night. Underlying this was the knowledge that Helen was alive and that she was not a she, but a he. Relena closed her eyes as the warrior tightened his grip around her then spurred his horse forward.  
  
So many deaths. So many lives cut short in such a short space of time. At one moment they had been talking, laughing, eating, breathing. The next they all lay in the snow. Their deaths had not been the peaceful passing of old age, but rather their lives had been torn from them.  
  
And she felt as if she were responsible.  
  
The warriors had slain the slavers in order to free her. They had died because of her. How many had wives and children waiting for them to return home? How many had parents waiting patiently for their sons to send word that would never come? How many had dependants that would starve because they no longer had someone to provide for them? Relena felt suddenly as if she could not breathe. She hunched forward in pain at the guilt that she felt, her stomach rebelling.  
  
The rider shifted his grip on her as she leaned forward, and pulled in the rein of his horse so that its stride slowed. She had both hands to her mouth, her brow felt sweaty and her mouth watered unpleasantly. The warrior seemed to understand her discomfort and brought his horse to a halt allowing her to slide to the ground. She stumbled forward a couple of steps before falling to her knees. Her stomach heaved uncontrollably, but she brought up nothing. She had not eaten since breaking her fast that morning. She absently heard the warrior give instructions for camp to be made a little further on, before her stomach again rebelled.  
  
When next she raised her head she found a skin of some sort of fluid held out to her. She shook her head, wiping her now watering eyes and looked at the one who offered it to her. His distinctive blue eyes were narrowed as he watched her and Relena suspected he was impatient at her being so weak as to vomit at the sight of dead men. His hair was tied back in a thong, but his fringe was long and messy and fell forward partially obscuring his eyes.  
  
Looking at him Relena found herself remembering how he held her down on the frozen earth. Her stomach tingled again as she recalled him lowering his head close to hers and this time the sensation was not nausea. She swallowed a little in nervousness wondering just what the unfamiliar sensation was and lowered her eyes away from him unable to endure his gaze for long.  
  
The warrior did not seem to sense her discomfort because he moved alarmingly close. He held out the fluid again, waving it this time under her nose.  
  
"Drink it." he said, "If you don't drink willingly, I will make you drink it."  
  
Relena's lurching stomach sensation faded as anger rose in its place. She lifted her head again and glared at the man. "Leave me in peace," she said, her fists clenching in unfamiliar anger "I cannot forget-"  
  
Abruptly she was cut off as his hand came up and captured her jaw, tilting her head back whilst his other hand brought the neck of the skin to her lips. Strong undiluted mead poured into her mouth burning her throat and making her cough. It flowed so fast that it spilled over her chin and down the front of her habit. When the man was satisfied that she had indeed swallowed a good couple of mouthfuls, he pulled the skin away and took a mouthful himself.  
  
"Now at least you have something to throw up," he said smugly as she stared at him in shock, her hands wiping her face and smoothing her now damp dress. He was looking at her with curiosity in his eyes "You have never seen death before" he stated, rocking back so that he crouched on his heels.  
  
Relena's anger died as swiftly as it had grown. She hung her head. "I have seen death before, I just have never been responsible for it," she whispered.  
  
His hand touched her shoulder, again Relena felt a spark of something deep in her stomach that made her heart race. She tilted her head up to see him regard her with cold eyes.  
  
"Get used to it," he said "This is just the beginning."  
  
  
  
TBC  
  
Im always grateful for any comments/suggestions that you wish to give, so don't forget to let me know what you liked or did not like ^_^ 


	4. Chapter 4

Again, many thanks to all who have been so kind as to review. Thanks too to Iris Anthe for once again doing such an excellent job at beta reading and picking up on a certain fault ^^

Cynehelme

by kmf

Rating: PG13

Warnings: AU

Standard Disclaimer Applies

Chapter Four

Dorothy Catalonia sat close to the fire observing the comings and goings of the warriors around her as she considered her options. There was no way in hell that she was going to return to the Abbey and take up her life as a nun again, but she very much doubted that that was the intention of the men who had rescued them. She pulled at her distressingly short hair and made herself look blankly at the fire. In reality, she was assessing weapons, and discerning strengths and weaknesses. 

She considered the men. By their clothes she would say that they came from Mercia; a black woven band of material that decorated the edges of their clothes and the way that they bound long strips of material in a criss-cross pattern over the lower leg of their trousers gave that away. They wore long narrow sleeved tunics, the seams at their wrists left undone so as to allow them ease of movement despite the snug fit. The tunics themselves were girdled at the waist with belts of leather, done up with large metal buckles. Hanging from the belts were various items: knives, scabbards, and fetels, pouches which contained fire starting equipment.

Dorothy's eyes narrowed slightly as she watched the dark warrior who had seemingly claimed Relena enter the campsite. He led Relena, pale and wan, his large hand curled around her forearm. Relena's head was bowed and Dorothy felt irritation that she could be so scared in circumstances that exhilarated Dorothy. 

The men all showed deference for the young handsome warrior, with the possible exception of 'Helen' who followed them into camp at a distance as if he had been spying on the couple. It seemed like the leader of the warband also was attempting to avoid him, or maybe keep Relena away from him. It was satisfying that she was not the only person to find Helen irritating. Ever since he had let drop that he had heard a rumour about why she was a nun, she had avoided him. That he had been successfully able to hide his sex from her until the incident in the woods made her aversion for him even more pronounced. She hated surprises.

Dorothy followed their movements finding the scene very interesting. It had been a while since she had dabbled in politics, but unless she was very much mistaken the border on the men's cloaks signified the royal house of Mercia. Which meant that the leader of the little band of men would have to be someone of great importance to the Mercian throne. 

Dorothy's grin widened further still as the warrior led Relena to them. Standing she tilted her head to one side and smiled gratefully at the man.

"I wanted to thank you for saving us Sir." she said, "May I know your name?"

"Heero." he murmured. 

Dorothy's heart lurched at his name, her palms going damp and her breathing rapid. She felt rare shock tempered with anticipation. The man before her was Heero Yuy, Prince of the Mercian's and heir to their throne. He was the man who she had very much wanted to meet since the death of her grandfather. His name she associated with the start of her troubles and shame. If it had not been for Heero Yuy she would never have been sent away from her family to become a nun. How she hated his name! And now he stood before her within easy stabbing distance if only she had a sword or a knife to hand.

She had to remain calm though. To kill him now would serve no purpose other than getting herself killed. Instead she considered all her options. She knew who Heero was, she knew who Relena was but they had no idea who Dorothy was. She found herself considering all the possibilities as if she were playing a game of chess and as she did so her smile widened in the anticipation of the battle to come. Heero, however, ignored her smug look and instead turned to Relena 

"Sit by the fire and warm yourself." He said, gesturing to a large log that had been drawn up so that they would not have to sit directly in slush of the fire melted snow.

Relena nodded looking slightly dazed and too pale. She sat as instructed looking towards the fire as if she could see her future there. Sally crouched beside her holding a hand to the girl's forehead to check for fever. Looking up at the warrior Sally asked eagerly "Will you be taking us back to the Abbey tomorrow?"

Dorothy resisted the urge to giggle. Of course he was not, she thought. Heero was silent, staring at Relena who sat almost at his feet. His hand gripped the pommel of his sword tightly before answering "If you wish to return to the Abbey we will point you in the right direction in the morning. You should be safe walking, there was no sign of others in the woods other than the slavers..." he paused looking away from them "But Relena Peacecraft will come with us.

Of course you want her Dorothy thought as she listened to the inevitable protest from both Sally and Relena. She said nothing herself, but listened intently to all that was being said a look of concern on her face. She noted that 'Helen' had come over immediately Relena had protested. Dorothy studied his face as he watched Relena finding what she saw extremely interesting. The man was quite obviously enamoured with the little innocent Princess. 

Dorothy truly could not understand it; Relena was such a meek individual at the nunnery. It had come as quite a surprise to Dorothy when she had first realised whom her fellow apprentice was. It had been rumoured that the Peacecraft heir had been given to an Abbey somewhere on the Kent/Mercian border, but the exact whereabouts had not been well known. King Peacecraft had wanted to protect his daughter as much as possible and had only divulged the truth to very few people. 

It had seemed to be fate therefore when she Dorothy Catalonia, disgraced cousin of the new Lindsay leader, had been given to the very convent that housed the woman that Treize Kushrinada sought. She had immediately dispatched letters informing her beloved cousin of Relena's location, and a letter in return had assured Dorothy that all would be forgiven if Dorothy could deliver the heir of the High King into his hands.

Of course, it had all gone horribly wrong since that letter had arrived. That Sally had managed to get them captured by slavers was bad enough, but to be then freed by Mercians was an absolute disaster. Dorothy knew what she must do though to get her wealth and status back; she had to try and stall until Treize finished his business with the High King and made his way to collect his bride to be. 

The petty verbal protests of Sally and Relena continued causing Dorothy to almost roll her eyes in irritation. Instead she schooled her facial expression into one of polite concern as she watched her companions.

"Why on earth should I leave the Abbey?" Relena demanded getting to her feet despite looking as if she was about to collapse.

"Because it is not safe now that you are the last Peacecraft." Heero answered angrily, finally able to get a word in.

Relena stood stunned as she looked at Heero. Her face seemed to go even paler than before and she blinked a couple of times as her hands caught the material of her skirt and crushed the material.

"Jesus!" 'Helen' muttered, "Could you not have broken it to her more gently?" he asked glaring at Heero before squawking in pain as an irate Sally boxed him around the ears.

"Don't you dare use the Lords name as a profanity Sister Helen!" she said before shoving him away from Relena and wrapping her arms around the girl.

"Its Duo not Helen!" Duo protested, folding his arms in front of him, his eyes sulky "My name is Duo." he looked at Heero "And I will say it again, couldn't you have told it a little more gently?"

Heero's face remained emotionless but his eyes were stormy as he faced Duo. For a moment they both glared at each other until Duo finally lowered his eyes and turned to the shocked Relena. Dorothy raised an eyebrow. Again, this was interesting she thought. Duo was close enough to the young leader to question his actions, but knew when to back down even though resentment obviously swam in his eyes. Again, she thought to use this in the future. 

Relena found her voice muffled from within Sally's comforting arms. "They are all dead? Even Lucrezia and the unborn child?" she asked. Duo came forward and patted her head awkwardly forestalling Heero's reply.

"Aye, we had news that they are all dead. I'm sorry Princess," he said.

Sally again bridled "Relena is not a princess, she has given her worldly life up and dedicated herself to God." she glared at Duo, who backed up a little, the deference he had given her the last few weeks as Sister Helen still apparent in his face.

"She has taken no oaths yet." Heero said firmly "And for the peace of Britain she must become a Princess again."

Dorothy lowered her head and smirked. Of course she must, she thought. And she must become Queen of the World too. Lifting her head she glared at Heero. But not at the hands of Mercia, she decided. 

Not if she had anything to do with it.

* * * * *

Relena felt a roaring in her ears as she heard the words.

__

..."...Aye, we had news that they are all dead..."

Her father, her brother, the unborn child. All dead. All gone. Relena's eyes felt dry as she blinked rapidly trying to comprehend what had befallen her family. She closed them trying to recall what they had looked like. She had vague recollections of her father; a giant of a man, tall with masses of long white hair and a snowy white beard. Or was he a giant? Perhaps to a three year old when any adult looked tall and imposing. Nothing that she could recall of him was clear, rather the image of him was fuzzy and dreamlike. Except for his eyes. She did recall his eyes, blue like hers. They had been stern, proud, sad and loving all at the same time. 

Such memorable eyes.

Her brother was equally evasive in her memory. Carefree laughter she recalled. Being pulled along by a boy with silky blond hair. Being given stolen pastries from the kitchen with laughed demands to swear an oath not to tell anyone of his most daring raid. Her only recollection was of a child; of the adult she knew nothing. What had he grown up to look like? Did he look like her father? Did he share those beautiful eyes?

Relena could not mourn them. She could not cry over the loss of her family; truth be told she did not know them. She felt sadness at their passing and an odd sense of loss. But she could not cry for those that she had not known for fifteen years apart from the odd dispatch of news. She pushed Sally gently away and looked at the flames of the campfire.

"How did they die?" she asked.

Heero had crouched down beside them and was cleaning his blade with an old scrap of leather. She watched the rhythmic movements as he stroked the blade, watching the metal gleam in the warm light of the fire and felt oddly calmed by it. He did not look up at her question, but continued to regard his blade.

"An attack by Lindsay. A massacre before their strong hold was burned to the ground." he said.

Relena's brows drew together trying to remember all that she had learnt about that realm "But they are peaceful; the King is a great friend of my fathers." she said in a puzzled voice.

"He was. But there is a new King on the throne of Lindsay - Trieze Kushrinada usurped the throne and attacked King Peacecraft for the title of High King." Heero still did not look up.

"How do you know it was Kushrinada?" Dorothy suddenly said entering into the conversation for the first time. Relena looked at her curiously and Heero stopped cleaning his sword to look towards the nun. "You are after all only hearing this from a man of Mercia." she continued blithely.

"It was Kushrinada of Lindsay." Heero said again before returning to his sword.

Relena looked thoughtfully at Duo who also sat regarding the fire. "And you suspected that there would be an attack against me so you posed as a nun to offer me protection." she mused.

"We do not think that your life is in danger, but rather that you are the key to the crown. If Kushrinada captures you he would wed you and have a rightful claim to the High Kings throne." Duo said, his eyes earnest.

Dorothy gave a little laugh at this, before narrowing her eyes "As would Mercia if she was to wed a Mercian prince." she said pointedly.

Relena bowed her head, her golden hair falling forward and shielding her face from the others. "I would like to return to the abbey." she said quietly, and Sally gave a relieved half laugh. "But would I be putting the abbey in danger if I returned there."

Dorothy again spoke "Any realm that wants you badly enough would attack an abbey. Especially one of the pagan realms." she said pointedly staring at Heero. Heero continued to clean his sword, even though it was gleaming, his hand gripping the rag tightly.

Relena's head remained bowed and she said nothing. Silence hung thickly over the group, only the cracking of burning wood filled the quietness of the night. She had nothing to say. What could she say? It was obvious to her that she could not return to the abbey and endanger those who resided there, and she was not sure that she really wanted to return anyway. Fate had dealt her a challenging hand and she needed to think long and hard on how she was to play it. 

She wanted desperately to trust Heero and his band of men. They had, after all, saved them from the slavers. And there was something about Heero that demanded that she follow him; strength and a determination she had not encountered before. There was also that almost painful feeling she experienced in the very pit of her stomach when she looked at him or when he touched her. She had never felt sensations quite like them before and she yearned to learn more about them and to experience them again. 

However, he had frightened her with his cold words out in the woods. He had said that she should get used to the responsibility of death. That was something that she did not want and would not do. Relena hated the thought of war and the thought that realms would be battling over her, killing over her, horrified her even more. 

But what was the solution? If she was the last remaining heir for the throne, could she rule as an unwed maiden? It was unlikely that would ever be allowed to happen. A single woman was too vulnerable, she would be the target for any man who wanted to impregnate her to have his son as King. She would have to marry or she would have to give up her claim. And if she gave up her claim then would that just lead to even more civil unrest and more bloodshed that would be directly her responsibility.

Her head started to spin from all the thoughts in her head and she breathed deeply trying to clear them away. She could see that her hands were trembling both in fatigue and with stress and she felt angry with herself. This was no way for the heir of the house of Peacecraft to act. She clenched her fists willing the unwanted movements to stop. A hand upon hers made her look up.

Duo was looking at her with a half smile upon his lips, his kind blue eyes reflecting the orange flickers of the flames. "Think more upon it tomorrow." he said, "Tonight you should rest."

Relena was about to protest that she did not need to rest when she saw Sally stifle a yawn, her eyes flashing an apology. Relena saw that Dorothy too had dark smudges under her eyes and sat with slumped shoulders. She saw the sense in Duo's words and nodded her assent. As soon as she did so, she felt the weariness wash over her as if having acknowledged it she allowed it take control of her. Thinking that they would simply sit beside the warm fire she was surprised when Duo took her arm and helped lift her to her feet.

"I hope that we give you kinder hospitality than the slavers did" he grinned, leading her around the fire and away into the darker night. Relena's eyes took a little moment to adjust, until she saw that a small makeshift hut had been made. A circle of branches had been pushed into the wet ground, leaving a little opening to the front wide enough to crawl into. A roof of branches had been placed on top, their twiggy ends woven into the upright branches and their thick stems bound with flax rope to form a dome. Snow had then been scraped back from beneath the trees and wet brown leaves gathered and tossed over the structure to cover it almost completely. 

Duo bowed at the entrance and gestured for Relena and her sister nuns to crawl in. Inside skins had been placed on the cold ground as insulation, and blankets piled up for warmth. Relena felt amazement as she realised that the cold wet leaves sheltered the occupants of the little hut from the icy cold wind and that it was remarkably comfortable inside. There was little space inside; enough, though, for half a dozen men to lay down comfortably and ten if they huddled together. 

Relena sat back looking at the blankets desiring nothing more than to burrow beneath them. Movement at the door revealed that Duo had crouched down and was about to enter the little hut. A hand on his shoulder prevented him getting any further in and Relena heard Heero say gruffly.

"They sleep alone!"

Duo pouted at the door and winked at Relena before standing up and protesting in a whining voice "But there is plenty of room. I have got used to sleeping indoors, I will freeze to death out here!"

Sally and Dorothy had already wound themselves up into blankets and lay cocoon like on the soft hide floor, their eyes closed. Relena picked up a blanket and draped it over her shoulders watching them, half-listening to Duo's protests outside. She half smiled as she heard Heero scold him.

"If you are cold, then put your nuns habit back on" Heero said and Duo verbalised his disgust of such a suggestion.

More movement at the door made Relena look up again. Framed in the door was Heero, his face averted in case the women were in a state of immodesty. His brown hair fell forward partially obscuring his face from her view, but she could still see his fine straight nose and his stubborn mouth. He coughed to gain her attention, and waited for her to acknowledge his presence. 

Relena savoured the moment of being able to gaze upon him without him staring back at her, comfortable that his startling dark blue eyes were not upon her but strangely yearning for them to look at her. A sudden unbidden thought came to her head of him sitting next to her sharing the same blanket as her, sharing each other's warmth. Relena felt a little sharp jolt in the centre of her belly, and her cheeks flushed with embarrassment at her extremely worldly thoughts. Why was it this man made her feel such sensations that she had never felt before?

"Are you well?" Heero asked. He had lifted his face and was looking directly at her as she sat with a blanket half draped around her slim form. 

Relena brought a hand up to her flushed cheek willing it to return to its normal pale colour. "I...er....yes, I am well." she stumbled over the words, and then lowered her own head to break the lock his eyes had on hers. 

Heero nodded, although she could not see the gesture. "Sleep well. There are sentries up around the camp, and Trowa will guard this hut tonight so that none will enter. Trowa is a trustworthy man," he said

"Thank you." Relena looked up again, but Heero had gone. She sighed and looked at the other sleeping women. Tomorrow, she decided, they would have to return to the nunnery and she would go to Mercia and see what God had in stall for her.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

Many, many thanks for all the lovely reviews for chapter four. What a buzz! Now for a bit of shameless self-promotion. I am currently involved in writing a joint fic with Goldberry and Iris Anthe; a GW fairy tale called Maids of Silva by Happily Ever After. We have just posted chapter one (by Goldberry) and I would be really grateful if you go and have a look and let us know what you think. You can find it at:  
  
http://www.fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=1181382  
  
Many thanks! Now on with this story...  
  
  
  
Cynehelme  
  
By kmf  
  
Rating: PG13 Warnings: AU Standard Disclaimer applies  
  
  
  
Chapter Five  
  
Relena woke slowly. Luxuriating in the rare warmth that her blankets gave her, she wondered how long it would be until the knock on her door summoned her to Prime. She shifted slightly and winced at the hardness of the pallet she lay on. Absently she rubbed her hand along its surface expecting to feel lumps of cloth covered straw, but instead her fingers were greeted by the soft texture of fur. Her brain tried to grasp why she was lying on fur, whilst her eyes protested as she tried to open them. Relena's will prevailed and she opened her eyes to a scene that was most definitely not the inside of her sparten cell.  
  
Autumnal colours were all around her. The roof of the hut was packed with deep browns and blacks of dead beech leaves. The floor was covered with the deep brown fur of a bear, and she herself was encased in a warm blanket woven in a peculiar raised check pattern and dyed the wonderful orange brown that onion skins gave. She blinked a couple of times staring up at the roof, then closed her eyes again quickly and groaned.  
  
In the space of twenty-four hours her life had changed from one of doubtful novice to unwilling princess. From this day on she would have to forsake her life of innocence and enter the world of politics where she would have to work hard to prevent wars. Even if it meant prostituting her body to a new husband for whom she had no love.  
  
She opened her eyes again and looked around for her companions determined that she would send them on their way back to the nunnery as soon as she possibly could. Relena found to her surprise that she was alone.  
  
Shaking off the warm blanket, she smoothed down her habit as best she could and attempted to put some order to her knotty hair. Her stomach tensed with both hunger and trepidation, and her bladder painfully needed to be emptied. She crawled forward and looked out of the hut at the world beyond.  
  
The sun was up and shining brightly on the white snow. Glancing at the leaves on the outside of the hut she could see that they had all frosted white with the coldness of the night. She felt even more impressed that such a simple hut had kept them so warm. Trowa still stood beside the entrance and he helped her to her feet as she emerged into the frosty air shivering at the change of temperature. He looked at her shivering, then reached into the hut and pulled forth a blanket. He held it out to her saying nothing, his eyes partially hidden by the fall of his hair. Relena hesitated, then took the blanket and wrapped it around her shoulder. She was about to ask where her companions were when he raised a hand and pointed. Turning she saw Sally and Dorothy approach, winding their way through the men who gathered in the camp breaking their fast with spit roasted rabbit.  
  
Sally had managed to find a veil to hide her shorn head and was looking happier for it. Dorothy, however, proudly displayed her hair as a virgin maid would and had even managed to find a cloak that was not the dull black of her habit. Sally held a hand up to Relena's head to feel her temperature, and as Relena began to apologise to the sister for being so tardy in the morning, Sally shook her head to forestall her.  
  
"You were feverish during the night and I made gave you dispensation this morning to miss Prime." she smiled kindly "You may make up for it in prayer during the day."  
  
Dorothy snorted "When will you get it into your head that she is not a nun to be given dispensation for anything." she reached forward and took Relena's arm "She is a princess although she looks more like a beggar at the moment. Come!" she pulled Relena with her, around the fire and away from the delicious smell of food.  
  
They walked to the tree line away from prying eyes so that Relena could crouch behind a tree and empty her bladder. Lifting her habit and under dress up she winced as the icy air made her unprotected legs and bottom goose encouraging her to finish as quickly as she possibly could. Moving back around the tree she was greeted with a handful of snow rubbed into her face and Relena gave a little shriek as some fell down the silt opening of her dress to melt between her breasts.  
  
Dorothy grinned, then produced a little bone comb from within her robes. Spinning Relena around she began to pull the comb through Relena's long hair roughly pulling at the knots. "My hair was far longer than yours." she said as she worked "I was famed for it. I used to leave it loose around my shoulders and warriors would fight for just a glance from me." she paused and ran a hand through her now close cropped hair, glaring at Sally. "Your God demands to much from its wives." she hissed.  
  
Sally, who had been standing and observing, had had enough "When you get back to the abbey you will be serving some serious penance." she declared, striding forward and pulling the comb from Dorothy's hands "Obviously we have been much too lenient on you up to now. I will remind you Sister Dorothy that you have given yourself to God." she held up the comb "Vanity is not tolerated."  
  
Dorothy snatched the comb back, her brows drawn together "This is mine." she said coldly. She turned back to Relena who had taken the opportunity to swiftly braid the front two sections of her hair. She held up her hands as Dorothy advanced with the comb.  
  
"I am fine now, although I am very hungry." she said trying to placate both the sisters.  
  
"Then you should eat!" came a cheerful voice and Duo moved into view from behind the tree he had been hiding behind.  
  
Sally frowned and pointed "You pervert!" she declared "Were you spying?"  
  
Duo came forward and bowed to all three, taking Sally's hand up in his own he planted a kiss on the back of it. He grinned as she pulled away and wiped the hand on her habit, her face angry and flushed "Its called guarding, not spying." he said, "Do you think that Heero would allow you all just to wander away? After all" he turned to Relena and caught her hand "you are to be Queen of the world, princess." he was about to kiss Relena's hand when Dorothy pushed him away.  
  
  
  
"Don't you dare touch her!" she said coldly "You are not worthy."  
  
Relena felt her face flame in embarrassment as Duo's smile faded a little. "Dorothy, Duo has been a good friend to me for the last month" she said a little reproachfully "Please do not call him unworthy."  
  
Duo's smile brightened again and he reclaimed her hand pulling it towards his lips "I am pleased that you still think of me as a friend, even after I deceived you." he murmured, his breath hot against her skin. He was about to kiss her when his eyes focused behind Relena and he pulled his head back grinning.  
  
Relena turned to see that Heero was now standing behind them. He glared at Duo who merely grinned back before moving away from Relena. Relena felt confusion at the anger in Heero's deep blue eyes as he came close. His skin was slightly red and although some might have been due to him scraping his beard away, the angry hue near his eyes was not. Relena stood her ground, her heart beating wildly as he got closer. When she had to tilt her head to still keep eye contact, he stopped.  
  
"Break your fast." he grated, before turning and striding back to the camp.  
  
Relena felt her breathe come out in a rush as soon as he broke eye contact. She felt limp and deflated and oddly tingly. Dorothy came forward and stood beside her.  
  
"Watch that one." she said very quietly so that only she and Relena could hear "I fear his agenda."  
  
Relena blinked as she heard the words and wondered if it was true. Heero was a strange man, his outward facade cold but his eyes betrayed a warmth and energy that was mesmerising. His anger, however, concerned her. Why was it that every time she spoke to him he looked like he would strike her?  
  
"Come" Sally took the lead and pulled Relena away from Dorothy's whispers "I am hungrier than I have ever been in my life. Let us eat."  
  
  
  
* * * *  
  
  
  
Breakfast was an uncomfortable affair for Relena; she was aware many eyes upon her, not all of which were friendly. Heero glared at her, Duo's smiled mischievously, Dorothy's gaze was one of warning, whilst the rest of the men looked at her in ill hidden curiosity. She sat holding on to the haunch of rabbit that she had been given trying to chew without concern. However, the tough meat was difficult to swallow when so many watched her every movement. Despite her hunger and delicious smell of the meat she felt the bile rise in her stomach.  
  
Finally, she could eat no more and lifted her head to look at Sally. Sally had worn a worried look on her face all morning and could see from Relena's expression that the news was not good.  
  
"You have decided not to return to the Abbey." she said in a tired disappointed voice, wiping her mouth with her sleeve.  
  
"I cannot put the nuns and the people of the village at risk." Relena said softly, reaching over and taking her mentors hand in her own. "Please understand."  
  
Sally would not look her in the eye, but rather focused on the hand gripping hers. "You should put your trust in God. He would protect you and us all." she said.  
  
Heero snorted "We will protect her better." he said ignoring the cold glance that Sally gave him. He threw the bones of the rabbit he had been eating into the fire causing the flame to splutter. The ill scent of burning flesh assailed their noses. "We will set you and the other sister on the right path for your abbey. You obviously trust you God so you will not need an escort."  
  
Dorothy raised an eyebrow "You will not set me on the path to anywhere." she said. "I will stay with Relena. I would not have her travelling with twelve men without a chaperone." she looked pointedly at Sally "Unless you would like to remain with her?"  
  
Sally looked back at her lap considering, before turning to Relena with an apologetic look on her face "I'm sorry, I cannot."  
  
Heero looked like the last thing in the world he wanted to do was take Dorothy with him, but nodded his assent. He pointed at her "You will do a I say. If you do not I will leave you behind and you can trust your safety to your God." A hand on his wrist interrupted him and he turned to see that Relena had stood and reached out to him.  
  
"Please, do not send Sally on her own." she asked, her blue eyes full of concern for the older nun "You cannot just send her off into the woods alone."  
  
Heero hesitated as he looked from her to Sally before shaking his head his irritation. "I cannot spare a man." he said, his lips pressed close, his brow frowning.  
  
"Please?" Relena whispered willing Heero to aid her friend.  
  
Heero again shook his head, but looked towards his men. "Very well" he said before nodding towards Trowa. "But only one will go with her. Trowa, you are the fastest traveller and the best tracker. You should be able to catch us up in a day or two."  
  
Trowa nodded his agreement but said nothing. Relena also said nothing but bowed her head in thanks. It was only when Heero's callused hand covered hers gently pulling it away from him that she realised that she still held onto him. She blushed a little before smiling up at him. He did not smile in return, but merely looked at her with his penetrating blue eyes.  
  
"Bid your farewells." he instructed, before turning to help gather the gear and pack the horses.  
  
Relena watched him go her smile fading. She turned to Sally and ran to embrace her. Sally gathered her close, rubbing her back and both allowed their tears to fall.  
  
"I will miss you so much" Relena said in all honesty. Sally had been her mentor for many years and she regarded her as much as a mother as a teacher.  
  
"And I you." Sally nodded, pulling away and smoothing the tears away from Relena's cheeks with her fingertips. Her own she allowed to fall. Half turning she looked at Dorothy. "You will keep her safe." she said, her voice harsh and her eyes angry "And if I find that you have not, I will make sure that you are punished."  
  
Dorothy blinked, her normally expressionless face oddly surprised by Sally's outburst. Finally she smirked. "Of course." she said nodding. "She will be safe from these men."  
  
Sally stared at Dorothy for a moment before again embracing her young friend. "May God travel with you." she said kissing Relena on the cheeks.  
  
"And with you Sister." Relena said returning the kiss.  
  
And with that Sally was gone, trailing mournfully after Trowa who walked fast and with purpose back towards the snow filled woods from which their journey had started.  
  
  
  
* * * *  
  
  
  
Relena looked back at the campsite and sighed. The little shelter was no longer there, the men had emptied it of furs and blankets and swiftly demolished it. The branches and leaves they had scattered around the site and with the snow beginning to fall once again any hint as to its existence would soon be gone. She felt a little saddened by this. She desperately wanted to be able to snuggle up inside it once again and hide from the world. It had felt safe and comforting, whereas this big wide white world was not.  
  
She knew that Dorothy watched her with exasperation and annoyance even though those emotions did not touch her face. Dorothy believed that Relena had been given a great opportunity to make her mark on the world. Relena, however, wished with all her heart that her faceless father and brother were still alive and that she remained ignorant of feuding kingdoms and aspiring kings.  
  
Ahead of her, mounted on his horse, Heero sat surveying all his men his quick eyes assessing the state of the camp and whether anyone would easily detect where they had been. He glanced up at the sky estimating the rate of the fall of snow and seemed satisfied with what he saw. He glanced at her as if reassuring himself that she was indeed accompanying them and nodded at her. Relena smiled at him to demonstrate that she was still determined to proceed on the course that she had chosen. He nodded and raised his hand signalling for the warband to proceed.  
  
They went at a walk for several reasons not least of which was that the horses had been ridden hard for days and were in need of a rest. They had had little to eat other than the oats that had been brought along for the journey and some sweet dried meadow hay. Both were now in low supply so were being rationed accordingly. The snow-covered ground was also a treacherous problem. The blanket hid any potential difficulties that could trip the unwary animals. Rabbit holes were fatal for a horse that was unlucky enough to step into one and break its leg. The horses were a precious commodity not easily replaced.  
  
Relena was thankful that the pace was slow. She did not know how to ride, being brought up in the abbey had isolated her from beasts of burden. After admitting that she was ignorant of how to ride in an embarrassed voice to Heero, he had quickly ascertained that Dorothy did and had decided that they should ride pillion. Relena had not known whether to be grateful or sad that she would not be riding this time with Heero. After due consideration and having found herself staring at his backside as he bent down to adjust his legging straps, she decided that she felt relieved.  
  
Snow began to fall heavier as they rode along causing Relena to pull her shawl tighter around her head and body. She looked up and watched the heavy flakes dance in the little eddies of wind and fall to the ground. She tried to focus on just one and follow its progress, and soon began to feel the giddy dizziness that always resulted from that game. She clutched onto Dorothy's waist for support.  
  
"I hope that Sally is alright." she murmured loud enough for Dorothy's ears only. Dorothy shrugged. She was sitting as Relena did, sideways across the back of the horse, her narrow underskirt allowing nothing else.  
  
"I am sure that the Sister is fine and almost back to her little Eden by now" she said "She is probably a lot warmer and dryer than us." She gave a little pull on the horse's rein making the horse snort and shake its head.  
  
Relena tilted her head to try and look at Dorothy's profile. The older girl had also covered her head with a shawl that was rapidly becoming white as the snow settled. Relena could see enough though to know that Dorothy's face wore its usual smug facade  
  
"Trowa seems to be their best tracker. I am sure he will be able to find his way back to the abbey without difficulty." Dorothy continued, her nose wrinkling "Even in weather such as this." She paused a little and seemed to hesitate before continuing, her voice low and muted "Relena, do you believe their story?"  
  
Relena gave a little start of surprise and stared down at the footprints their horse left in the snow. She thought carefully before answering conscious that Dorothy was not normally a chatty person and that she also kept much secret.  
  
" I trust Heero Yuy." she answered smiling a little "He seems to be honest and genuine.  
  
"But what of the story of your father's assassination." Dorothy persisted, her voice little more than a murmur. "Are you sure that you can trust what he says of that? He could be telling any story to get you to come with him. In truth, your father might even still be alive."  
  
Relena felt a little surge of hope run through her veins, but then gazed at the heavens and allowed snow to settle on her face. "No" she said quietly "I think that I would know if he lied about that. I would be able to see it in his eyes. My father and brother are dead."  
  
Dorothy paused a moment, latching onto the words Relena had uttered. "What do you mean, you would know if he lied about that?" she asked, her voice sharp in the muffled air. "Do you sense that he is lying about something?"  
  
Relena hesitated and wondered how much she should share with Dorothy. The unhappy truth was that Dorothy was the only one she could discuss her fears with; there was no one else now that Sally had gone. "I think that he is hiding something from me." she finally admitted.  
  
With an unladylike snort, Dorothy laughed. "You think so?" she asked, "I think he could be hiding any number of things from you. It could have been Mercia that arranged the death of your father and brother. It could be that Heero Yuy is a prince of Mercia taking you home to wed you and gain the High Kings throne. Or even taking you back to wed King Oden of Mercia." She snorted, smiling, her lips thin. "I hear that King Oden is a fine looking man despite his advanced age."  
  
Relena shook her head but said nothing, again watching the falling snow. Her mind full of Heero Yuy, she looked about to see if she could spot him. She blinked in surprise when she found that she could see none of the other riders.  
  
"Dorothy, where are the others?" she questioned, twisting to look behind. The snow was falling even more thickly now and it was difficult to see more that twenty paces. Suddenly it did not feel so magical anymore, but more frightening.  
  
Dorothy straightened and looked about, her eyebrows drawn together in a frown. "I don't know." she admitted finally "We have become separated."  
  
Fear lurched inside Relena, and she fought to push it down. They were in serious trouble if they were indeed lost in a snowstorm. They had no provisions and, as far as Relena was aware, no forest craft to draw on to aid their survival. Although she had seen how a shelter had been erected, they were now firmly on the downs and trees were few and far between on the high chalk hills.  
  
"Don't worry." Dorothy soothed her "If we continue in this direction we are sure to catch them up. " She gave a short laugh "Obviously you are not as precious as we thought if Heero allowed for you to be lost so easily."  
  
Relena didn't reply, she was still peering around. Her eyes blinked rapidly in an effort to clear them of the large wet flakes of snow. Thinking that she heard a noise from behind, she twisted around trying to see.  
  
"Dorothy, stop." she requested. "I think I see something or someone."  
  
Dorothy ignored her and Relena felt the horse move from a walking pace to a trot which made her tighten her hold around the girl's waist as she felt herself slip. The gait of the horse caused her head to bounce uncomfortably. Relena pulled at Dorothy's shawl to try and get her attention.  
  
"Dorothy, wait!" she called again, looking behind to see that the shape had resolved itself into that of a man on a horse.  
  
He was approaching at a gallop, unmindful of the risks involved. Relena could see that he too was covered in a layer of snow, clinging to his cloak and hood giving him a ghostly look. As he drew in along side them, he pulled back on his reins making his horse dance a little. His hood slipped back revealing that it was Heero, his face grim and determined. Once the horse had settled he reached out and snatched the reins from Dorothy's hands.  
  
"What the hell are you doing?" he demanded, his eyes angry and hard as he stared at Dorothy.  
  
"We lost you." she said smoothly, an eyebrow raised. "Where were you?"  
  
Heero glanced at Relena before glaring at Dorothy again. "We were going in the right direction. Unlike you who seems to have managed to turn a full half circle and are heading back the way we came."  
  
Dorothy shrugged. "The snow was so thick that it was difficult to see. I thought that I was going straight." She smiled. "I apologise. It was lucky that you found us."  
  
Heero tossed the reins back at her "Luck had nothing to do with it. I might have said that Trowa was the best amongst us, however we are all of us excellent trackers." He said smirking. He pulled his horse close to Dorothy's, his eyes narrowing again. "You can travel in whatever direction you wish. For all I care you can go to hell." His arm darted out and snaked around Relena's waist and pulled her to him. "Relena travels with me from now on."  
  
Relena blinked in surprise as she was suddenly on another horse. Heero positioned her carefully across his lap and pulled her shawl tight around her so that she was wrapped tightly in it. She could feel the heat radiate from him even though cold snow coated his cloak and tunic and she felt warm and secure despite knowing next to nothing about this grim warrior.  
  
Heero pulled on his reins and his horse wheeled sharply, its front legs dancing a little in the air. He held her tighter to him and she felt her cheeks unwillingly glow red. Looking towards Dorothy she saw that her cheeks were also red, but from anger which caused her eyes to flash dangerously. For a moment Relena thought that Dorothy would do as Heero bid and remain behind, but as Heero urged his horse forward she saw Dorothy follow.  
  
Relena sighed knowing that she would feel the brunt of Dorothy's anger later, but for now she was content to lie safe and warm in Heero's arms.  
  
  
  
TBC 


	6. Chapter 6

Cynehelme by kmf  
  
Rating: PG13 Warnings: AU Standard Disclaimer Applies  
  
  
  
Chapter Six  
  
Sally trudged obediently behind Trowa, her eyes fixated on the woven border that adorned his cloak. As she walked she kept replaying her parting with Relena in her mind, and as she did she began to wonder if she had just made the biggest mistake in her life.  
  
Or was that the biggest mistake in Relena's life?  
  
Trying to push Relena from her mind, Sally found herself recalling how she herself had first arrived as a novice at the convent. The abbey had been her escape; a place to flee from the world of whores that her mother lived in and groomed her for. Sally did not know who her father was, probably some foreign merchant given the shape of her eyes and the slight dusky hue of her skin. Even amongst the children of the whores she had been bullied because of her mixed parentage, the lowest of the low. She grew up shy and scared, untrusting of any and desperate for an escape from the slums.  
  
Relena had been one of the first to befriend her, captivating in her childish way and completely innocent of the prejudices of racial hatred. She shook her head as she thought of the young innocent girl. Relena had actually been in the nunnery longer than Sally. She had been sent to the convent as a toddler and had been brought up protected and loved by the nuns. Sally had initially felt resentment that the child had been so protected, but as she gradually got to know Relena, this had changed. Over the years that Sally knew her, she had come to love the girl as if she was a child of her own.  
  
However, there was always an air of mystery that surrounded Relena. When Sally had become curious about Relena's origins and asked who her true mother and father were, no answers were forthcoming. The mother superior had smiled serenely and answered that God was her father and that all the nuns were her mother.  
  
Sally's smiling recollection soon faded though as she recalled Dorothy. From the moment she had first met Dorothy, Sally knew that she was trouble. Her face, whilst in the main expressionless, could not hide her angry eyes. And whilst she had been dutiful to the order, Sally always discerned an element of mocking under the obedience. She knew little about Dorothy. All she knew was that she was sent to the nunnery with an impressive dowry, one that only a person of high standing would be able to grant. The Mother Superior had been exceptionally quiet about Dorothy's origins, almost as quiet as she had been about Relena, although Sally now knew the reason for that.  
  
Her thoughts returned to Relena. How could she have abandoned Relena to the elements? The only child that God would ever grant her. Sally's face fell and her fists clenched. She knew the reason. It was because she was a coward. Too afraid to go out once more into the world of men. Too afraid to be confronted as she was as a young girl because her eyes were an odd shape and her colouring different.  
  
Sally winced as she bumped into a hard form, and she blinked up to see Trowa regarding her. "We go too slow," he said, his voice expressionless, but his eyes taking in the weather. "More snow is on its way."  
  
The clouds did look low and black, the cold air warming a trifle, which was a sure sign that it was about to snow. Sally nodded, but made no move to follow Trowa who had started walking again. He had gone a few steps when he halted and turned to regard her again. He said nothing, but raised an eyebrow questioning her.  
  
She bit her lip. As much as she desired the safety and security of the Abbey, she could not leave Relena alone to her fate. As much as she feared the taunts of others she could not live in the knowledge that she had abandoned Relena. Taking a deep breath, she decided.  
  
"Take me back," she said.  
  
  
  
* * * *  
  
  
  
Treize Kushrinada sat upon the back of his warhorse and looked at the abbey in disdain. He believed in many Gods: Hectate, Wodin, Thor, Frea and Bel- Marduk who so desired his sacrifices to be burned. But a God of Peace was something that he could neither understand nor respect. It turned his stomach to know that his bride to be had been raised in such a place. She was amongst the spineless women who now huddled in front of him in the snow, their wimpled heads hiding ugly shorn heads, their hands clenched together as they prayed for deliverance to their God of Peace.  
  
His men surrounded them, swords drawn but blood free. It had been distressingly easy to capture the women. They had no guards on the abbey doors and none of the village men had come forth to aid them. As soon as his warband had thundered through the snow sludge to the village, all had fled to their little huts; not one had come forth in arms to fight them. The gates to the abbey had also been left open, no attack had been foreseen and no guards set. Treize had shaken his head in disbelief. The most precious item in the land was kept inside the abbey and no one was there to protect it.  
  
The nuns had been all found in their church, heads bowed praying to their god. One old one had protested as his men entered their sacred place, but after she had been struck for her impertinence the rest had followed orders without protest. All had filed out of the church and now knelt in the yard waiting their fate.  
  
Treize flicked a spot of imagined dirt from his pristine leggings before dismounting and handing the reins of his horse to one of his men. Instantly his shaman was at his side, her hair unbound and shiny on her shoulders, a stark contrast to the wimpled nuns. Despite the cold, she wore no cloak, instead wore a thick long sleeved full-length under dress beneath her sleeveless calf length peplos tunic. On both her shoulders the material of the peplos was fastened together with circular broaches stamped with the symbols of her Gods. The shapeless rectangle of the dress had been given form by the girdle that pulled tightly around her narrow waist, held in place with a large ornate buckle. From the girdle hung a variety of objects: pouches, a knife, a comb, amulets and a spindle.  
  
His shaman smiled absently as she gazed serenely at the frightened nuns. Treize was used to her temperament. When calling on her spirits and Gods she was a fearful sight, her hair bound back and her eyes steely with authority and power. When free from her shaman duties she was a different person; quiet, shy and kind. Treize looked back at the nuns kneeling in the snow.  
  
"I search for Peacecraft. Which amongst you is she," he announced, his voice kindly and reassuring.  
  
None of the women showed recognition of the name, except the old woman with the bruised cheek who was probably their leader. She said nothing, but redoubled her efforts at praying to her God. The Shaman observed this, her eyes narrowing slightly showing flashes of what she could become. Treize put a hand on her shoulder.  
  
"Its alright Une," he said softly watching the hardness in her eyes fade and the softness return. She bowed her head in submission and obeyed his unspoken command. Treize moved forward to the old woman and looked down at her. "You," he said softly, and the woman's prayers ceased. She looked up at him, her old eyes defiant. "Which amongst these is Peacecraft?" he gestured at the rest of the women.  
  
The old women's thin lips smiled a little "None" she said, satisfaction in her voice.  
  
Trieze raised an eyebrow, quietly pleased that at least one amongst these showed a little bit of spirit. He glanced along the line of nuns wondering whether to believe the old woman. If what she said was true, he was grateful. None of the women appealed to him, not that that was important. Relena Peacecraft's status was what was important, not her desirability.  
  
Une was once more at his side. "Sire, I cannot see your cousin," she murmured in his ear, her voice soft and gentle.  
  
Treize nodded. Dorothy Catalonia was not here, she for one would not allow herself to be dragged out into the snow without at least some sort of protest. He turned back to the old nun, who was staring at the pagan articles hanging from Une's waist in disgust.  
  
"Where is Dorothy Catalonia?" he asked. This time he was rewarded with murmurs of recognition of the name from amongst the other nun. He allowed himself to smile "And where is Relena Peacecraft?"  
  
Again, the rest of the nuns recognised the name. Some began to cry softly as if the name pained them and for a moment Treize felt fear that Relena might be dead. If he no longer had access to the heir of the High Kings throne, then civil war was bound to erupt. Trieze was not a bloodthirsty man. Yes, he had killed the High King and ordered his strong hold to be torched which resulted in the death of Millardo and his pregnant wife. And yes, he enjoyed a good battle. And yes, he had killed and would kill again to get what he wanted, what he deserved. But he did not enjoy pitting his skills and prowess against ordinary people. He did not like killing peasants who had no means to protect themselves against his sword. Nor did he like the idea of the loss of revenue and instability that civil war would cause. He wanted to be firmly upon the High King's throne without the general populace questioning his right to rule. He wanted to enjoy the status now and not have to contend with years of civil unrest and disobedience.  
  
"Where is she!" he demanded, his voice now sharp, his patience at an end.  
  
The nun smiled sensing his irritation. "Gone," she said, ignoring his obvious irritation.  
  
Treize crouched down in front of the woman. "Tell me where she is now," he said, curbing his temper. "If you do not, I will burn this abbey down. And if that does not encourage you, I am sure the burning of the village will." He saw the fear now in her eyes and knew that whatever she said would be the truth.  
  
"I do not know. Four sisters, including your cousin and Relena Peacecraft, went foraging for herbs in the woods yesterday. They never returned. You interrupted a service praying for their safe return." She stared up at him, her face grim. "God will never forgive you for what you have done," she said, her eyes though frightened still defiant.  
  
Treize nodded and stood straight, turning to survey the nearby woods. He considered the snow on the ground and the threatening clouds. If they were to track the nuns they would have to move fast.  
  
"Wufei!" he called and instantly the warrior was in front of him bowing to his master. Trieze pointed towards the woods "Track the four nuns quickly. The weather is against us and if it snows we will have little chance of finding them quickly."  
  
Wufei nodded again and ran to his horse, leaping up onto it and urging it into motion in one fluid movement. Treize watched him depart satisfied. Wufei was intensely loyal to Treize and would not return until he had found either the nuns or sign of them. He looked back at the still kneeling nun. Reaching down he took her by the elbow and pulled her to her feet.  
  
"Thank you for your co-operation," he said, and gestured for the other women to rise. A look of concern spread over his face as he saw that they were wet and muddy from the snowy sludge they had been kneeling in. "Forgive me ladies, I have caused you great discomfort. Please, do not remain in the cold on my account. Return to your hearth and warm yourselves. I do not want any of you to take ill because of this questioning."  
  
The old nun looked at him, her eyes wide with suspicion before leading the younger women back into the sanctuary of the church. Trieze motioned for his men to put away their swords and watched the women go. Une again stood by his side. In the course of his discussion with the nuns she had tied her hair back. She stood proud and tall, her eyes narrowed and calculating.  
  
"You believe her, sire?" she questioned, her voice rough and hard as her eyes.  
  
"They had no reason to lie," Treize replied, fingering the pommel of his sword. "I wonder why Dorothy should remove herself and Relena from the convent when she knew that I was coming."  
  
"Do you suspect that she betrays you, Lord?" Une asked, indignation showing on her face.  
  
Treize had to smile. Une was another of his loyal followers, trusting and devoted she could not comprehend why any should not wish to do as Treize commanded. Dorothy, however, was not so sheep like. She had a strong will of her own and it was entirely possible that she could be following her own agenda instead of his if it profited her more. Her sense of self- furtherance was the primary reason why she was in the nunnery in the first place.  
  
Looking down at Une he saw that she still patiently waited a reply.  
  
"If she has betrayed me," Treize finally said, his mouth smiling softly "she will soon wish that she had not." He caressed Une's check with one of his long elegant fingers and she closed her eyes blissful at the gesture.  
  
  
  
* * * *  
  
  
  
It did not take Wufei long to pick up the trail, four nuns stumbling through snowy woods left a path that even a blind man could follow. He did not even bother dismounting from his horse; whilst the trail was clear he travelled as fast as he could. He had no wish to let his Lord Trieze down.  
  
This was not the first time that Trieze had chosen him above others to do his bidding, Wufei was getting a reputation for being favoured by his King. Wufei denied this though; if he was not the best and was chosen, then that would be favouritism. As it was he knew that he was the best therefore it was good sound judgement.  
  
Wufei had worked hard to get where he was, he had always been at a disadvantage not having been born into Trieze Kushrinada's tribe. In truth he was an ex-slave. Not many would believe it now, but originally Wufei was the son of a peasant farmer destined to become a farmer himself. The fates had a different purpose in mind for him though and as a child his parents had been killed and he and his siblings carried off to be sold as slaves.  
  
He did not know what became of his brothers and sister after they were sold, but it was more than likely they were long dead. He had been lucky that a fair man who had seen potential in Wufei's wiry shape and his agility had purchased him. Wufei had been trained as a warrior, destined to become a gladiator. His owner had been confident that he would be a fine competitor and bring him in good revenue. Unfortunately, his owner also enjoyed to drink and gamble and one night when Wufei was still relatively young his master had lost possession of Wufei in a dice game.  
  
Wufei's next owner was not quite so considerate and enjoyed beating him at regular intervals. However, he also travelled a lot and Wufei gained the knowledge of languages and cultures different from his own. His third owner had been a merchant, a man who desired above all other things a quick profit. A good way of making a profit was in slaves, but rather than just buying and selling, he also bred. It was through this owner that he found his Meiran the woman who Wufei considered his wife.  
  
Meiran was a slight young girl, but fiercely strong in will and spirit. Wufei had always considered himself strong and a fine warrior, but when he first tried to touch Meiran to fulfil the demands his master made that he breed with her, she had sent him flying across the room with a single well placed kick. They were both slaves, however, and Meiran paid dearly for her disobedience. Their master whipped her soundly to ensure her submission, whilst Wufei could only look on.  
  
Their relationship had been an odd one. Whereas most couples would court first before bonding with each other, Wufei and Meiran were obliged to join first and find out about each other later. In the end their time together was brief. Soon after they realised that they were to have a child, the ship in which they were travelling with their merchant master was caught in by pirates. Meiran had sacrificed herself by throwing herself in front of a sword destined for Wufei and had died. Wufei, disgusted that he had lived and she had died had thrown himself into the sea fully expecting to die. Instead Trieze who, as luck would have it, was aboard his own merchant ship pulled him from the sea.  
  
Trieze had taken him in, shown him kindness and given him purpose. Recognising his skills Trieze had inducted Wufei into his warband. And he had given him the most precious thing of all, he had given him his freedom. Trieze had cut his slaves shackles from his neck and wrists and promised him that they never again would be put back on. In Wufei's opinion no man had greater honour than Trieze Kushrinada did and he would give his life if it would serve him.  
  
Wufei sniffed the air as he rode; the snow was getting nearer but he felt it would still hold off a little while. He reined in his horse seeing some odd tracks in the snow, then stopped and dismounted. Crouching, he looked around frowning and pulling on his short bound back hair. He studied the trees and their branches, before again looking at the ground.  
  
Mounted men had ridden through. Enough to form a small warband. Wufei shook his head knowing that Trieze would not be happy at the news. He got to his feet and started to run, leading the horse at a trot. He needed now to be close to the ground so he could see the small signs and hints of passage. Soon he could see many footprints now almost erased by hoof prints. The mounted men had been following people, not just the nuns. These footprints were too large for women.  
  
He jogged on, frowning again as the first snow flakes began to fall. He paused to consider whether he should ride on hard and risk missing some hard to spot clues, or whether he should continue on foot and see everything. Whilst he was debating, he heard a noise to his left. A twig broke, it sounded harsh in the muted snow filled air.  
  
Instantly he moved in the direction of the sound, leaving his horse behind him. It was well trained and obedient and would remain there quiet and still until he returned or called for it. Wufei moved silently, his cream tunic blending in with his white surroundings, his hand on his sword prepared for battle if necessary.  
  
Crouching behind one of the bare trees he saw what he sought. A man walked silently, a warrior well armed and alert. By his colours and his leg ties he was a man of Mercia. A woman walked a few paces behind; it was she who made the noise uncaring of where her foot fell. She wore black, as did the nuns at the abbey, but her head was covered with a length of orange brown cloth, and her head and neck was not bound in the white wimple that the other nuns wore.  
  
Her head was bowed and Wufei could not make out her features, although he could see that she was tall and from her movements young, although tired. Her dress was stained and torn, her fists were clenching and unclenching as if she was preparing to fight. The warrior in front stopped and turned to regard her. She unaware of her surroundings walked into him. Words were exchanged before the warrior walked on. The nun remained where she stood, until the warrior looked back at her. Her voice came clear on the cold air.  
  
"Take me back," she said, her head lifting so that Wufei could now see her features.  
  
She was young, perhaps young enough to be the Peacecraft heir that Trieze sought. She seemed pretty, Wufei was impressed with the steely determination that showed in her eyes and he felt satisfied that if this was Relena Peacecraft then Trieze would be pleased. Trieze deserved a woman of spirit, a woman of determination.  
  
As Wufei watched, the man who accompanied her nodded once and without comment began to retrace his steps, walking away from the abbey. Wufei stood and moved around the tree. He grinned when the warrior immediately detected him, spinning around and pulling forth his sword in an elegant well-practised motion. The nun's eyes went wide as she too saw Wufei. He walked forward, not yet drawing his sword and saw the warrior look at him, assessing his clothes and his weapons. Although Wufei wore no colours and was not a native Britain, he knew that the loose style of his leggings and the way he wore broaches on both shoulders of his tunic would show his allegiance.  
  
"Lindsay!" the warrior said identifying him correctly. Wufei grinned, still walking forward.  
  
"Are you Relena Peacecraft?" he asked, ignoring the man. The nun's mouth formed a little o shape, as she stood still and shocked. The warrior stood in front of her holding his blade at the ready. He whispered something to the woman, who backed up a couple of paces. Wufei knew that she had been given instructions to flee.  
  
Wufei could not allow that. He moved forward, pulling his sword out of its scabbard as he ran, letting loose his war cry. His eyes narrowed and his eyebrows drew together as he felt the familiar fury rise and flow through his limbs. His opponent stood still and calm, his blade raised, his eyes narrowed and firm. Reaching him, Wufei swung down with his blade. The warrior countered it, but was pushed back a pace as the force of Wufei's blade hit his own.  
  
"Indefensible!" Wufei spat, "Stealing a woman who is not destined to be yours!" he swung again, and again was blocked. Wufei lunged another time getting a feel for how good his rival was.  
  
"Trowa!" the nun called out in concern and Wufei grinned as he swung again.  
  
  
  
"Stay there, nun. Soon I will take you to the man who will be your husband and master," he said, grunting as the blades once again clashed sending sparks flying into the snowy air.  
  
Trowa fought silently, his face calm and his movement's light. He was agile and countered every blow that Wufei aimed at him, but made no real effort to fight him back. Wufei scowled, angered that the man was not fighting honourably and was about to berate him for this, when he realised that Trowa was leading Wufei away from the nun. Wufei paused, panting slightly whilst Trowa stood still in a defensive pose. Deliberately Wufei turned his head to look back at the nun who had decided to obey Trowa and was running away. Trowa frowned as he saw that Wufei had detected his diversion and sprang at him. Wufei blocked the blow, and turned and ran after the nun. Trowa ran swiftly after him.  
  
The nun, hearing the approaching footfall of both men, turned and looked back at them. She stopped knowing that both men could easily outpace her and pressed her back against a tree. Wufei satisfied that she would not disappear on him slowed his pace and spun to face Trowa. Trowa, not expecting him to do this, skidded to a halt a little off balance. Wufei saw that for a moment he had an advantage and used it. He swung his heavy blade again and again. Trowa countered, but each block pushed him further off balance. His leather shoe skidded on the slippery snow covered grass and he fell back, his sword flying from his hand as he hit the ground. Wufei grinned at his now prone foe lifted his blade high preparing to make the killing blow.  
  
As his blade swiftly moved down a black shape sped in front of him throwing itself over Trowa. Wufei realised it was the nun and with great difficulty pulled back his blow feeling his shoulder muscles protest uncomfortably as he did so. He swore as the point pushed into the nun's habit and almost sighed in relief when he felt that it punctured no skin. He stood still and shocked reliving the moment when Meiran had done the very same thing in his own defence. Gathering himself, he pulled the sword back and glared at the woman.  
  
"How dare you get in the way of a battle," he grated, shock making his voice harsh. Staring past her into the face of the warrior he defeated he saw dazed surprise in his green eyes. Ignoring the look on Trowa's face he bent down and pulled the nun off him and prepared again to dispatch his foe.  
  
"If you ever want to find Relena Peacecraft you will not harm a hair on Trowa's head!" the nun hissed from where he had thrown her. She tilted her head up to gaze at him, her eyes angry and narrow.  
  
Wufei looked closely at her and realised that he had indeed been mistaken. This woman was no woman of Kent; her slightly tilted eyes gave away that she, like him, had oriental blood coursing through her veins. Her veil had slipped from her head when he had thrown her away revealing reddish gold short hair, which was now being coated in falling snow. Swearing, he reversed his sword and aimed a blow to the warrior's head. His foe slumped unconscious on the wet ground as Wufei cast his eyes to the heavens.  
  
The weather was against him and he had no hope of tracking Relena now. The distraction of the fight had taken too much time and snow was quickly hiding any tracks that remained. He could only take this fiery nun and her companion back to Treize and hope that they would be able to lead them to where the Peacecraft heir was hidden.  
  
TBC 


	7. Chapter 7

Thank you so much for all your kind reviews ^^ Sorry that I didn't email you direct this time (those that left email addresses), but I had a close encounter with a hot air gun when stripping some paint and typing was a little painful for a while ^^  
  
Im curious as to what you think about the length of the chapters; one reviewer thought they ought to be shorter. Personally, I like long chapters but I can understand why people don't. It would be easy for me to chop the chapters in half if that is what most people want, so please let me know ^^  
  
Again, special thanks to Iris Anthe for doing a wonderful job beta reading for me ^^  
  
Cynehelme by kmf  
  
Warning: AU Rating: PG13 Standard Disclaimer applies  
  
  
  
Chapter Seven  
  
After Wufei had landed the blow, Trowa had known nothing until being brought to consciousness by water trickling on his head. As his sight gradually resolved itself to fine focus, he found himself being tended to by a lovely young woman, her dark hair loose around her shoulders, her eyes dreamy, but with a hint of concern, her mouth lifted in a small smile. The smile widened as she realised that he could now focus on her and she had knelt back to regard him. He then saw that around her waist she wore objects of power and knew that she was a Shaman.  
  
"My Lord" she called "he awakes!" twisting her head around to the darkness of the night. A man had then joined her, tall and elegant, his face strangely familiar.  
  
"Your name?" the man demanded.  
  
Trowa, seeing no need to keep his name a secret, told him. The man smiled slightly.  
  
"Trowa, I am Treize Kushrinada, King of Lindsey," he said, rubbing his chin trying to assess Trowa's reaction to his name. Trowa who had suspected that was who he was said nothing keeping his face impassive. "And I need some information from you. Where is my princess?" he asked.  
  
Trowa remained silent and Treize made a gesture. Immediately Sally was brought over held firm by the grim faced Wufei. Treize made no threats, but his meaning was apparent; answer the questions or the woman gets hurt. Trowa's eyes narrowed. He had no desire to cause Sally any harm, nor did he wish to give information away to the enemy. Wufei's look was easily read. He demanded that Trowa pay back the life debt that he had to Sally, she had after all saved his life. Was this how he intended to repay her?  
  
Finally Trowa answered, considering that Heero would have travelled far enough ahead now so that it would be difficult for Treize to catch them up. "She is with Heero Yuy."  
  
Treize nodded, satisfied that Trowa was not lying. "So, she is with the Prince." he said, looking towards Sally as she involuntarily gasped. "Ah, I see the Prince was not forthcoming with his title to you, my dear. And I suppose he said that I was just out to use the Princess for my personal gain." he smiled "Well, I think you understand now that that is exactly what the young prince is doing."  
  
Trowa felt a cup of water pressed to his mouth and found that the Shaman had brought him a drink. He allowed himself to swallow the cold clear water, grateful as his throat had felt sore. She smiled again at him, running her hand through his thick brown hair before moving away to stand by her Lord.  
  
"And they are heading directly for Mercia?" Treize asked smiling again "And I wager that you believe we would never catch them in time. Tell me, Trowa. Was there a young woman with them? Dorothy Catalonia?" Treize laughed a little at the look that was clear on both Trowa's and Sally's faces. He knew that they had suddenly spotted the similarities between Treize and Dorothy; the distinctive eyebrows that marked that they were related. "I am sure that my cousin will do a fine job in delaying them enough for us to make up time and catch them. You two will both travel with us, I have a feeling that you will both come in useful. "Treize turned to his men "Get ready! We ride at once"  
  
  
  
* * * *  
  
  
  
They had been travelling for several days and each day Heero insisted that he carry Relena Peacecraft with him on his horse. He did not trust the nun Dorothy, not since she had managed to evade his men and get herself lost in the snow with Relena. In fact he was sure that she had shown great cunning in gradually letting her horse drift away and turn back the way they had come.  
  
Heero did not know the reason why. She had been willing enough to come with Relena, and had in fact insisted upon it. If he did no know better, he would have thought she meant to ransom her companion. But were not nuns above worldly possessions? Heero shook his head. He knew little about Christianity, and understood less why a woman would want to secret herself away from men and live a celibate life.  
  
He allowed himself to peer down at the girl in his arms, allowing himself to smile a little. She was asleep again. It seemed that whenever she rode with him, wrapped up in her warm shawl, she would always slip away into dreams. It touched him that she seemed to trust him enough to allow herself to lean in to him and let her eyes close. He wondered why she was so tired during the day, perhaps she was not as well as he thought. He lifted a hand, removing the glove so that he could touch her forehead. It was a little warm, but then she was wrapped in significant layers in an effort to protect her from the cold day.  
  
Relena murmured a little as he touched her, causing him to pull back his hand in alarm. It would not do for her to wake suddenly and find him caressing her face, it would just frighten her. She breathed deeply, pushing her face close to his chest before sighing and slipping back into the deep sleep. Again Heero allowed himself to smile as he put his glove back on.  
  
If he was honest with himself, this was exactly the reason why he would not allow her to travel with any of the other men; especially not Duo. The thought of her sleeping in another mans arms made his heart pound in irritation and his hands go sweaty. It was bad enough that she talked so easily with Duo when they rested the horses or at meal times. But the thought of her pressing her body close to Duo's made him want to reach for his sword. Perhaps it was time to tell her that Duo was betrothed to Hilde and that by flirting with Relena, Duo dishonoured all three of them.  
  
Heero blew an irritating piece of hair out from his eyes, loathed to let go of his charge. He wouldn't tell her, he couldn't tell her. He had scarcely spoken to her at all since they started riding together. It was not that he didn't want to, but he was not one for mindless chatter about weather, scenery and such. She was not either, instead had asked him about himself, the kingdom he was from and his family. All questions he could not answer.  
  
He did not want to tell her that he was the Prince of Mercia, son of King Odin. He knew that if he did, she would instantly treat him differently. She would realise that in all probability Heero was not bringing her back to Mercia to protect her, but rather to wed her. Or even worse, for his father to wed her. King Odin was a peaceful man, but that did not mean he had no ambitions of his own. If presented the key to the High King's throne then of course King Odin would use it.  
  
When first they had been sent out to retrieve the Princess, Heero paid no thought to the possibility that his father might intend to wed her. Nor had he thought of himself wedding her. This was the way that marriage occurred for royalty; love did not come into the equation. It was a matter of politics. But since meeting Relena, since the instant he had held her down and seen her flushed face scared and angry, seen the fire and intelligence in her eyes, seen her delicate beauty and seen the trust that she gave unquestioningly to him, his heart had changed. He cared now and it made his heart freeze to think of what would show in her beautiful eyes when she found out exactly who he was.  
  
That was why he ignored most of her questions. That was why any he answered were grunted yes or no answers. He wanted to put off the moment of her realisation as long as he could. He wanted to distance himself as much as possible from her so that when she did find out, the betrayal in her eyes would not crush him. He wanted not to be in love with her.  
  
And he was very afraid that it was too late.  
  
  
  
* * * *  
  
  
  
Dorothy was becoming very fed up with the daily grind of travelling into Mercia. She was ignored by the entire warband by day. All of them, she supposed, were irritated that she had managed to out manoeuvre them on the snowy day. Her eyes gleamed in remembrance; she had almost managed to get the Princess away. Another hour or two and she would have been back in the abbey woods and safely on her way to Treize.  
  
She knew that Treize was close. She could sense it, taste it even. That and the scout Trowa had not yet returned from delivering Sally to the abbey. Of course, she was not the only one to have noticed that. Duo in particular was forever back tracking, carefully making sure that they were not being closely pursued. Dorothy wanted to snort in laughter each time he urged his horse back along the trail. She knew that the warband would never know that Treize was there until he was on top of them.  
  
But still, she felt that she could not wait much longer to free herself of these idiot men. They travelled lightly, bringing the barest minimal rations for survival, supplementing this with what they could forage. So far that had been the odd ancient squirrel that Dorothy swore were crispy before even they were placed over the flames on a spit. No one listened to her grumbles though, except of course Relena. When Dorothy had declared that she would rather starve than eat squirrel, Duo had plucked the meat from her hands and downed it in one and Heero had murmured 'starve then' to her.  
  
Relena, however, had slipped Dorothy her own portion of cheese and dried meat and had whispered her sympathy when they bedded down together at night. Out of the trees there were no resources to make a sound little hut for them to sleep in. Instead, on the tops of the downs they had to make do with sheltered hallows and cairns erected there for the sole purpose of sheltering travellers.  
  
Dorothy and Relena still slept alone, this much Dorothy insisted on. Not, of course, to protect the princess's virginity. But rather because Dorothy needed the time to try and convince her that going with Heero was not a good idea. Any delay that Dorothy managed to create would only aid Treize in his pursuit and bring Dorothy her much needed wealth and comfort that much sooner.  
  
She worked slyly. She insinuated that she had heard rumours about who Heero was. She hinted, but she did not come out and say that he was the prince. That Relena must learn direct from Heero or his men. Dorothy would then act surprised and horrified and point the finger saying that Heero had tried to dupe Relena. That way Relena must most certainly feel betrayed to the fullest extent and no longer want to travel with Heero. If he lied to her about his status, perhaps he had lied to her about who killed her father. That way Relena would turn to Treize, pliant and obedient relieved to be saved from the monster that Heero Yuy was.  
  
Dorothy encouraged Relena to talk to Duo, for two reasons. The first was that it irritated Heero exceedingly, enough reason to cause Dorothy great joy. The second was that Duo most certainly had a loose tongue. He talked, skirting around certain subjects, but giving much too much away about others. Duo spoke of the king with fondness and familiarity giving away that he knew him well. He told Relena that he had been fostered as a child into Heero's father's house and from that Relena ascertained that Heero also knew the king well. He told her of Mercia, of its religions, its strengths and its weaknesses.  
  
Relena also tried to talk to Heero and Dorothy was delighted when she saw that Heero would not answer, instead focussing on the horizon as if he wished he could travel as swiftly as possible to their destination and be rid of her. The time was so close. Soon all would be revealed and she and Relena would leave this rag tag band of men and flee to the safety that was Treize Kushrinada.  
  
  
  
* * * *  
  
  
  
By the end of the third day the landscape had changed. The chalk downs were giving way to more fertile land that was used for arable farming. As they trotted past farmsteads, people would peer out uncertainly from within their little circular hut homes. When they ascertained that the horsemen posed no threat, they would emerge and wave to them calling greetings and offering help and lodgings if needed. Towards the end of the day Duo urged his horse up next to Heero's. Relena instantly felt Heero's arm tighten around her possessively, but after another day of silence she was eager to hear a friends voice.  
  
"Heero, do you plan to stop at a farmstead tonight?" Duo asked, "It would be more comfortable fare than camping out under the stars again." he looked wistfully behind him to the last dwelling they had gone by, its occupants friendly and generous. They had given over two skins of ale, which were now being carefully carried by one of the men.  
  
"No." Heero shook his head. "We will burden no one with our upkeep tonight."  
  
Relena could not help the little sigh that escaped from her lips. As comfortable as she had been at night, she yearned to sleep inside a proper dwelling and eat fresh bread and meat rather than the dried fair she had been eating of late. Heero detected the sigh and frowned down at her disapproving.  
  
"These people are poor and can ill afford to entertain us. They lose much due to raids, would you add to their burden?" he asked.  
  
Relena pushed away from his chest so that she was sitting upright, and shook the cloak away from her head so that her vision of him was unimpeded. "That was the most I have heard from your mouth in three days," she said her eyes flashing crossly. "It seems a shame that when you do decide to talk to me it is to berate me." Heero blinked as she poked a finger into his chest "I did not know their circumstances, but it is harsh of you to think that I should know. I have asked you many times about Mercia and every time you have refused to answer. Do not think ill of me when I react out of ignorance that you helped to create." She crossed her arms and sat as far forward on the horse as she could.  
  
Duo laughed "She has you there, brother" he said. "Come ride with me, fair Relena, and I will tell you all you want to know and more." he held his arms out for her, but Heero shook his head, grasping onto the back of her dress as she shifted.  
  
Relena half twisted about to tell him off, but the stern look in his eyes froze the words on her tongue. He looked like he was about to berate her again, but then he lowered his eyes.  
  
"I'm sorry." he grated.  
  
Duo hooted in his surprise. "Sorry? That has to be the first time that I have ever heard you admit that you were in the wrong." Ignoring Heero's icy gaze, he grinned again "Come now Heero. Each farm we have gone by we have been given a bag of this and a haunch of that. We have more than enough food and drink with us now to make us no burden to any farmstead. Let us accept the next one that offers company so that we may feast tonight in celebration of returning safe to Mercia." He raised and eyebrow endearingly as he saw his foster brother falter.  
  
Heero looked down at Relena, who looked back with a hopeful look in her eye. She gave him a small smile also in an attempt to look endearing. She nodded pointing over his shoulder and he turned to see the other men of the warband all looking equally as hopeful. Heero rolled his eyes in exasperation.  
  
"Very well." he said agreeing finally. "We will do as you ask. But for tonight only. We need to be on the road again early if we are to arrive home by tomorrow night."  
  
Relena felt a sense of unease pervade her bones "Home?" she repeated.  
  
Heero said nothing for a little while, instead adjusting his reins. "My home is on the way to the capital and the King." he said. "I thought that it would be a good place to stop."  
  
Duo reached over and patted Relena's leg "You'll love it Princess. Part of it is an old Roman villa. There isn't much left now, but there is a working Roman bath," He sighed "Its the only one that still works that I know of, but Heero wont let me take it apart so I can work out how it works." he shrugged "I can't imagine why."  
  
Relena couldn't help but laugh a little, but Heero was not impressed. He pulled on his rein to make his horse turn sharply and pull Relena's leg away from Duo's hand.  
  
"A working roman bath?" Dorothy had walked her horse forward and was now opposite them "Sounds very royal." She said her eyes upon Relena.  
  
Relena felt her heart sink. Whenever she began to feel comfortable and relaxed, Dorothy would remind her that she knew little of these people. And whenever Duo talked to her, Heero would gaze at her with his furious eyes as if she had made some great indiscretion.  
  
She liked Duo. She liked him a lot. She had known him longer than all the others and whilst it had been as a woman, his personality had not greatly changed. Yes, he carried around a sword now instead of a rosary, but to her he was still the same person. Funny, caring and honest; almost a brother. In fact more of a brother than Millardo had been. She had more memories of Duo as Helen than she did of her father and brother combined. Why then was Heero so adamant that she should not talk to him?  
  
Unless he was jealous?  
  
Relena shook her head a little. Although she had next to no experience of relationships between men and women, she was convinced that Heero was not jealous. How could he be? Men who cared for women talked to them, didn't they? They told them of themselves and their hopes and dreams. Heero had not done that. Anything she had gleaned of Heero was through a third party.  
  
The horse lurching under her startled Relena and she had to twist to grasp around Heero's waist to stop herself falling off. She had been so distracted by her musing that she failed to hear that the conversation had ended and Heero had signalled for the men to move on. Heero peered down at her his mouth twisted in a little smile as she peeled herself away from his chest.  
  
"Dreaming again?" He asked an eyebrow raised as she blushed.  
  
For once it was he who asked the question and she that refused to answer.  
  
TBC  
  
Please let me know what you thought of it ^^ 


	8. Chapter 8

Many, many thanks to those of you who kindly left reviews for me ^^  
  
Raye: LOL - you want more? Well, here it is!  
  
Apol: Yup, Im a sucker for romantic snuggles so I am delighted you liked the summary.  
  
LSR-7: I too like long chapters, so I will keep these at the 4000 word mark. Pleased you liked the sap!  
  
Loremistress: Im trying to update weekly (although that might change soon). Hope this is soon enough for you ^^  
  
Imc: LOL, glad you liked the sap, and yes Heero is a little possessive in this one. Nothing wrong with a bit of jealousy!  
  
Dracoinfinity: Im not sure about too many comical scenes. This is turning into a bit of a serious story, although I am all for a bit of humour. Thanks for your suggestions though, I will keep them in mind ^^  
  
Blade Griffin: Your waiting is over!  
  
Kerbuddy: I think that most people liked longer chapters and I will stay with what I am doing rather than splitting each chapter into two. Thanks for your comments ^^  
  
Mscad: Delighted you are still enjoying it and I hope you like this chapter (my personal favourite so far!)  
  
Bluestarlight922: Eeeep! Longer you say! Not too sure about longer, my poor fingers are having a hard enough time already! To put your mind at ease this is a 1xR and 2xH story, although it is turning into an absolute monster lengthwise (working on chapter 15 now). They will eventually get together ^^ (.I think.)  
  
Sweetangel: Delighted that you like it, and Im honoured that its becoming a favourite ^^ Lady Lydia: Your wish is my command: here is more for you ^^  
  
MarliCat2007: Im so pleased you thought that was the best chapter yet - I rather like the one coming up now (but then Im a little evil..)  
  
Animechick2487: LOL, you are always so enthusiastic ^^ I love that you reviewed at two different sites! Hope you enjoy this next one.  
  
Queen of Shadows: LOL, hope you enjoy how this one pans out!  
  
artemis1082: Delighted you enjoyed it ^^ Hope you enjoy this one as much!  
  
Sage: Very pleased you like the way its going, and I hope you like this as much ^^  
  
Wayofwater: LOL, love your reviews. 'Dorothy hath set my blood a boil' too. Oh dear, you probably wont like her in this one then.  
  
Pink Sakura: Thank you so much for your comments ^^ Hope you enjoy this one too.  
  
KaT aka Mistress Shinigami: LOL, but Treize and Relena make such a pretty couple...just kidding^^ Hope you enjoy this installment!  
  
Rage of BlackMist: 0_0 ..okay.. Thank you for sharing your declaration of love for Heero with me. ..* edges away * .. Hope you enjoy this chapter.  
  
Bunny: Thank you for your comments! I love it when Heero is silently jealous too ^^  
  
Jewls: Thank you! Your waiting just might be over now..  
  
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Jem Star: LOL, thank you! Hopefully this chapter is as good as you thought the last one was ^^  
  
Nonsequitur: Thank you so much! Im so very pleased you liked it.  
  
  
  
Oh, and thank you to those who have read and reviewed 'The Maids of Silva' which I am co-writing with Goldberry and Iris Anthe under the name of Happily Ever After. We all appreciate your kind comments ^^  
  
Right! On with the next chapter...  
  
  
  
  
  
Cynehelme  
  
By kmf  
  
  
  
Rating: PG13 Warning: AU Standard Disclaimer applies  
  
  
  
Chapter Eight  
  
The tiny village that they chose to stay in was a typical one. A large circular structure formed the main feasting hall, its high roof supported a central upright beam and its walls made of a series of smaller beams in a circle. The walls were made of woven willow covered with a dung and clay mixture that cured in time to a substance almost as hard as stone and its roof was made of good thick thatch. A hole in the centre of the hall allowed the smoke from a large fire to escape, but not before the smoke also blackened the thatch and kept insects and pests to a minimum. The floor was dirt, smoothed and hardened over the years by many footsteps and was strewn with rushes to help absorb spilled drink and food when feasts were held there.  
  
Around the large structure were a number of smaller dwellings that were the same as the hall, only smaller in size. In these lived the families that worked the land, together with their animals who needed the shelter over winter. Each structure had but one door and all the doors faced towards the east aligned to the rising sun.  
  
Dorothy had taken one look at the houses and had nearly refused to get off her horse.  
  
"I am not staying there!" she pointed to a hut where a child, innocently scratching its head, had emerged leading a sheep. "God knows what we would end up catching!" she held her cloak close around her head as if by even looking at the poor dwelling she could catch head lice.  
  
The headman of the village came up and bowed to them as Heero dismounted his horse and turned to lift Relena down. The old man was dressed simply; his clothes were well worn and patched but clean. His tunic was long and old fashioned, coming to his ankles, and rather than a leather belt around his waist he wore a cord which was wrapped around his waist several times before being tied off in an elaborate knot.  
  
"My Lord, it is an honour that you choose our village to stay in tonight." he said, his voice thin but strong. He made to bow again, but Heero restrained him with a hand on his shoulder.  
  
"Enough, old father." he said with respect "We are honoured that you accept us to your hearth."  
  
Relena was unsure, but felt that Heero looked a little nervous at how much respect the village leader gave him. Dorothy, who had decided at this point to get down from her horse, apparently also noted it.  
  
"Strange.." she whispered in Relena's ear, holding onto her arm as if she was using Relena as a shield against the common folk. "Pay attention, there is much here for you to learn."  
  
The old man has ceased his bowing. "We do not have much to provide in your honour, but we shall kill a sheep and feast on that!" he gestured to one of the villagers to go and cull an animal.  
  
Heero held up a hand. "We bring plenty of supplies, do not kill a sound animal that you will need come spring," he pointed at the horses which his men were unloading skins of wine and beer together with bread and cured meat. "I mean no disrespect, but your village has had a hard time this winter. Let us pay homage to you."  
  
Relena watched as relief flooded the old man's face. At this time of year only the best livestock still lived; the weak having been culled and feasted on during the autumn months. There was only limited space for sheltering animals and the farmers had to choose wisely. To kill an animal now would be to kill a valuable breeder come spring and would have lasting repercussions throughout the following year.  
  
The headman bowed again, and gestured that they follow him, leaving the horses to be tended by the village people. At the door to the village feasting hall stood women who bowed low and tried to peel Relena and Dorothy away from the men who greeted them. Again, Heero's hand stayed firm on Relena's arm allowing her no movement. The women saw the gesture and all started to giggle, holding hands up across their mouths and lowering their eyes. Relena felt her skin glow red in embarrassment, but Heero did not release his grip of her.  
  
Looking uncomfortable, the headman tried to intervene. "The women just want to see to the ladies' comfort." he said.  
  
Heero was firm. "Their comfort can be seen to here. She does not leave my sight." he said, releasing Relena's arm. The women all bowed obediently, which Heero seemed satisfied with. "This village is safe," he said addressing Relena. "But stay close."  
  
He waited for her to nod, then moved off with the men to the fire where skins of ale were breached and poured into pottery cups before being quaffed quickly with sounds of great satisfaction. Heero too indulged in some ale, but Relena noted that he drank his slowly, his eyes occasionally darting in her direction to check and see that she was obeying his instructions.  
  
The women surrounded Dorothy and Relena, tutting at the state of their clothes and the shortness of Dorothy's hair. Some moved away to start to prepare the feast; several joints of meat were placed on a spit and settled over the fire and a young girl given the task to rotate it using a little handle. Another girl was to tend the fire making sure that the wood embers just glowed and that flames did not go so high as to singe the flesh. Bread was laid out in trenchers and windfall apples and dried fruits were placed in earthenware bowls.  
  
A cup was placed in Relena's hand and she sipped it gratefully, her nose wrinkling slightly as she tasted the beer. It was dark and thick; Relena could detect the flavour of both nettles and hops in it. After four days of just plain water the thick brew tasted wonderful. Even Dorothy sighed in satisfaction as she sipped, content for once just to drink and not comment on the surroundings.  
  
Gradually, the novelty of Relena and Dorothy's appearance wore off and the women floated away to converse with their men and the newcomers. Dorothy and Relena were left on their own to sit warm by the fire and to listen to the conversations. Snatches floated their way.  
  
.It had been a hard winter.  
  
.A glorious surprise to have a feast.  
  
.When was Will's wife due to have her first child?  
  
.Raiders had been spotted to the north.  
  
Relena felt herself relax and enjoy the chatter, content in the warmth of the hall. Her eyes closed and she felt herself drifting when Dorothy elbowed her in the ribs, almost causing her to spill her drink. Relena refrained from rolling her eyes and demanding 'what?' but rather turned to look at Dorothy politely.  
  
The girl did not look at her, but rather nodded towards two women who were gazing at Heero with adoration in their eyes. Puzzled at what Dorothy found so interesting, Relena attempted to listen to the women. It was difficult to filter out all the hubbub coming from within the hall and Relena found herself almost leaning towards them to hear anything.  
  
"...The most handsome amongst them." one was saying.  
  
The other laughed. "Of course he is most handsome, he is a prince - they are always handsome."  
  
Relena blinked. A prince? Who was a prince? She glanced at Dorothy who was looking at her now with a 'told you so' gleam in her eye. Relena looked back at the women. They were most definitely looking directly at Heero.  
  
She felt suddenly cold as realisation dawned on her. Heero was a prince. Why had he not said anything about his status to her? She shook her head. No, she was mistaken. The women were mistaken. They meant that he was a prince amongst men, not a Prince of Mercia. Not someone who had everything to gain from Relena's inheritance. Relena felt sick and tried in her mind to justify what they were saying. She swallowed unable to tear her ears away from the conversation.  
  
"Ah, would that he carried me off to his kingdom. What does he see in that Christian woman?" the first asked "She is so meek and quiet, she has no spirit at all."  
  
"No, nor real beauty." the second laughed, half turning to regard Relena. Her eyes widened when she saw that Relena was watching her, and the girl's face suddenly flushed. The first, seeing her companion's expression, followed her line of sight and saw too that they had been observed. She grabbed her friend's arm and they flew out of the hut.  
  
Relena sat blinking in the firelight. Dorothy edged closer and Relena wished for a moment she would just go away. Relena wanted no sharp edged whispers; she wanted instead to think about what she had heard slowly in her own time. Alas, it was not to be. Dorothy was determined to have her say.  
  
"It would seem that our Prince Heero has not been entirely honest with you." she said emphasising Heero's title. "Why has he kept his rank from you?" Dorothy looked at her in apparent concern and worry as she took hold of Relena's hand and squeezed it tight.  
  
  
  
Relena said nothing. There was nothing that she could say. If Heero was the Prince of Merica, then why had he never declared it? She frowned as she remembered all that Dorothy had said before, recalling the suggestions that perhaps Mercia was responsible for the deaths of her father and brother. Unknowing, she found her gaze drawn to Heero, who sat conversing with the elders of the village. He was nodding politely, listening to all that they said. No longer was he 'Heero the daring warband leader', but rather 'Heero the diplomat and future king', listening to his subjects and understanding his people.  
  
How was it that she had not seen it earlier? She had assumed that he was a general in the King of Mercia's army, a trusted warrior. She had never even considered that he was of princely birth, never considered that he could converse on things other than tactics and wars. She felt her eyebrows draw together in irritation. And why would she think he was anything other than some common solider; after all he hardly talked to her. She glared at him and he, as if sensing some ill feeling in the room turned his gaze to her, his eyes staring cold and blue.  
  
Relena did not turn away as she would have had he gazed at her only minutes before. Instead, her eyes flashed angrily at him silently demanding an explanation across the now crowded feasting hall. Heero's eyes narrowed slightly as he saw her expression, then comprehension flooded them before Relena fancied she saw relief. They continued to stare at each other, neither blinking nor making any attempt to turn away.  
  
Suddenly, Duo was before Relena cutting off her line of sight to Heero. Shifting slightly, she peered over his shoulder trying to once again claim Heero's eyes. Heero however had changed his expression to a glare. She saw him clench his fist before he abruptly turned away.  
  
Relena felt her ire rise once again and frowned. Duo's smile faltered and he pulled back the goblet of ale he had bought for her, squinting at it doubtfully.  
  
"I didn't think it was that bad!" he said, before using a forefinger to fish out some flecks of hops that were floating on the surface. "A little thick, but if you hold your teeth together as you drink you can soon sieve out the bits too big to swallow."  
  
Relena focused on Duo, trying to calm herself. He was flushed, his eyes sparkling in the smoky firelight of the hall and he swayed slightly as he held up the tankard again to her.  
  
"He is in his cups!" Dorothy snorted from beside her, eyes rolling in annoyance.  
  
Duo nodded "That I might be, Sister Dorothy, because even you are looking pretty to me now." he belched loudly, causing Dorothy to fall back a step or two with a look of disgust on her face.  
  
Relena surveyed the hall. Duo was not the only one to have over indulged; the ale flowed freely and all of the warriors were drinking heartily. Some were talking about their exploits to the village men and women who listened eagerly, whilst others were more interested in the inside of their cups than conversation. The young village girls were gazing upon the men with stars in their eyes, delighting that their village had been chosen to host such dashing young men, while some of the young men (obviously attached to the girls) were looking on with frowns on their faces.  
  
Looking back at Duo she saw he was still holding out the cup, still with the grin on his face. She reached out and took it from him, murmuring her thanks. Duo flushed a higher red, and sat himself cross-legged on the floor beside her staring intently at her face.  
  
"You know, you are very beautiful." he said, blinking up at her.  
  
"Dear Lord!" Dorothy breathed in disgust, her arms crossed in front of her chest looking around as if she could find someone to drag the drunk warrior away.  
  
"Thank you." Relena smiled softly blushing lightly. She had never been told that she was beautiful before. Even coming from a man who probably could not focus his eyes, it still made her feel strangely special. She watched him smiling up at her, his eyes half-closed and decided to question him about Heero "Duo, Heero is the prince of Mercia, isn't he?"  
  
Duo nodded then paled as he realised that he had given his foster brother away. "Sorry Princess." he apologised, squinting and trying to concentrate on his words "He wanted you to trust him and thought that you wouldn't if you knew."  
  
Again Relena heard Dorothy whisper in her ear "So he lies to gain trust. Interesting."  
  
Duo obviously heard and frowned. "He didn't lie. He just didn't say."  
  
Dorothy glared back "So the omission of truth then becomes acceptable?"  
  
Duo's eyes narrowed "I was wrong, I'm not drunk enough. You still look scary." he said and took a large gulp from his cup.  
  
Dorothy stood, her fists clenched as if she was preparing to box him around the ears, whilst Duo just pulled a face at her. Relena stood too, and placed a hand on Dorothy's arm.  
  
"Please, Dorothy, I am hungry. Can you kindly get me a sliver of meat and some bread?" she asked. Dorothy still glared at Duo, her breathing rapid and her eyes furious. Finally she nodded curtly and strode off. Relena sighed in relief and sat on her stool again. Looking down at Duo she saw he was wearing a smug smile of satisfaction on his face.  
  
"You're beautiful." he said again, causing Relena to give a little chuckle. His eyes brightened as she laughed. Putting his tankard down, he shakily got to his knees capturing her hand and pulled it to his lips kissing her lightly. He looked up into her eyes "It's so easy to love you." he said before lowering his lips to her hand again.  
  
Relena felt her heart jump and stood pulling her hand away from him. He over balanced and fell back onto his back laughing slightly in drunken embarrassment and amusement at his own clumsiness. Relena bit her lip as she watched the man struggle to his feet. He loved her? Did Duo mean it? She felt ill at ease wondering how she felt in return. Certainly she considered him her friend, how could she not after all the time he had masqueraded as Helen. But was that feeling deep enough to be called love?  
  
"Duo!" A feminine shout came across the hall and Relena tuned to see a young girl launch herself into the arms of Duo who had just managed to regain his feet.  
  
Duo's eyes were wide, surprise momentarily pushing the drunkenness from his brain. He looked down at the girl, who was now hugging him tightly, in shock. His mouth was moving but no words coming out. The girl, pushing away looked up at him her mouth smiling, her eyes sparkling with happiness.  
  
"I have missed you so much!" she declared before stretching up on her tiptoes to kiss him firmly on the lips. She pulled away again and grinned up at the still dazed man. "Surprised?" she asked.  
  
Duo blinked gazing down at the girl who now had her arms wound around his neck "Hilde?" he questioned "What are you doing here?"  
  
  
  
"We had word that you were on your way, but I could not wait for you to return." Hilde replied, kissing his cheeks and neck between the words. "I rode out hoping to find you at Heero's villa, but when you weren't there I decided to ride on a bit more and try and find you."  
  
Duo frowned. "Do you know how dangerous that is? A woman alone travelling the countryside?" he pushed her away and gave her a little shake. "How could you have been so stupid?"  
  
Hilde pouted, and pushed aside her cloak to show that she was dressed in tunic and leggings. "I travelled as a boy and you know I can fight as well as you. Besides." she grinned again, pressing herself once again tightly to him "I missed you. You are, after all, my betrothed." she nuzzled into his neck again.  
  
Relena watched the pair, her eyes wide with surprise and a little embarrassment. She had never seen a man and a woman being so affectionate before and although she wanted to turn her head away she found that she could not. The girl Hilde looked at Duo with love shining from her eyes and pressed the entire length of her body close to Duo. And Duo, after his initial surprise had faded, was holding her with equal ardour. Relena wondered what it must feel like to be held so close, to feel someone's fingers caressing the length of your back, to hear someone whisper words of love softly into your ear.  
  
She felt a blush arise in her face and turned away to give the couple some privacy and to try and dispel the aching need she suddenly felt within her own body. Feeling the need of some good cold air she made her way out of the hall, keeping to the shadows and not raising any notice from the now drunken warriors and villagers. She bent to exit the small doorway, pushing the hide that covered it to one side and was rewarded with the feel of the icy wind blowing through her clothes and onto her face.  
  
Relena straightened and walked aimlessly away from the hall, ignoring the clay mud than clung to her leather slippers and welcoming the chill that brought her back to her senses. The village was tiny and very soon she found herself at its edge. She rested her head against the walls of a pen that held the warriors' horses. The sensation of desire had faded and Relena breathed a sigh of relief. She could not help a little chortle that rose in her throat as she remembered Duo's drunken declaration of love. Not that it had lasted long, he was obviously very much enamoured with his brave little betrothed.  
  
"Oh please, don't tell me you are crying over him."  
  
Relena froze as she heard the caustic tone. She turned to show that she was, in fact, laughing.  
  
"Well, thank goodness for small mercies," Dorothy said "It would have been completely idiotic for you to loose tears over that man - and I use the term loosely." she pulled her cloak around her shivering a little. "So Duo is betrothed, even though he was in the process of declaring himself to you."  
  
Relena raised an eyebrow "You listened?" she questioned, feeling annoyed that the girl was always spying on her and seemed to be at least one step ahead of her all the time so far as information went.  
  
Dorothy smiled thinly in reply, and started to examine the horses allowing her gaze to wander to a wooden cart that was placed next to the pen. She drifted towards it and ran a hand over the rough wooden wheels. Still she said nothing, but left Relena with the odd feeling that she needed to justify herself.  
  
"It was nothing," she said, folding her arms watching Dorothy fiddle with the harness leathers "He was drunk and I hear that men declare a lot of nonsense when they are in their cups."  
  
Dorothy snorted "That is a poor excuse," she said looking at Relena "It seems to me that both brothers have lied to you. Heero about his status, and Duo about his love."  
  
Relena felt herself grow angry "Heero did not lie!" she said.  
  
Dorothy had suddenly come close and took Relena by the arm "He might not have lied, but he certainly omitted to tell you something of significant importance. As did Duo when he failed to tell you that he was betrothed," Dorothy's eyes narrowed as Relena shook off her arm "How can you trust any of them after this? How can you believe what they have told you about your family?" she demanded.  
  
"Who else is there to trust?" Relena questioned. Her voice was angry but controlled. "What am I to do? I cannot return to the abbey, I have no family to turn to, the people of my kingdom do not know me; what would you have me do?"  
  
Dorothy's frown turned to a grin "Come with me. I have friends that can help you. I have family you can trust. I can help you. Those fools are all drunk, we can be far away before they even knew we were gone."  
  
For a moment Relena was tempted. To leave Heero and his band, leave behind his cold eyes and his omissions, to leave Duo and his drunken declarations, to be free. Then she looked at Dorothy's eyes. They glittered in the frosty starlight, full of confidence and calculation, colder than ever Heero's were. Relena bit her lip as she studied Dorothy.  
  
"Who are you?" she asked, "Who is your family that would help?" then she shook her head and turned away "Dorothy, I know less of you than I do of Duo and Heero. I cannot go with you. For all I know you could be Kushrinada's sister planning to get me to him and be wed," she bowed her head.  
  
A blinding pain suddenly assailed her head, and Relena felt herself fall forward careless of the mud. For a moment she laid still and dazed, spots dancing before her eyes, a roaring in her ears and a mind numbing pain in the back of her head. She managed to push herself up on her hands and knees out of the wet muddy slush and turned her head to see Dorothy standing over her a large length of wood in her hands.  
  
Dorothy's mouth sneered. "I'm his cousin, actually," she said lifting the wood and bringing it down to connect once more with Relena's head. Relena fell once more into the mud, feeling it clog her nose and mouth. Before she completely lost consciousness she heard Dorothy murmur "And you will come with me, whether you like it or not."  
  
  
  
tbc 


	9. Chapter Nine

Apologies for the delay in updating - been finishing off another couple of projects ^^ Many, many thanks to all the very kind reviews I have been receiving for this story. I hope you continue to enjoy it! Ash: missing you on the mailing list, hope that you do stay in touch ^^  
  
Dedicated to Goldberry - this is the chapter she has long been waiting for..  
  
Cynehelme by kmf  
Rating: PG13 Warnings: AU/some violence Standard Disclaimer Applies  
Chapter Nine  
  
Dorothy could not restrain the large smile that crept across her face. More than two hours had gone by since her flight from the village, and as of yet there had been no pursuit. It was almost laughable. Those so-called warriors from Mercia were so drunk that they wouldn't have noticed if Kushrinada himself had ridden into the village. They deserved to loose the prize of the Peacecraft heir.  
  
She glanced over her shoulder to check on Relena. The girl lay sprawled in the back of the cart upon which Dorothy rode, her face pale and her lips slightly blue. The side of her head was matted with blood but she still breathed regularly, white puffs of her breath showing as condensation on the cold air. There had been no time to secure extra cloaks, blankets or food and Dorothy was relying on her instinct that Treize was indeed close. Otherwise those lips might well get bluer before the night was over.  
  
A bump on the road nearly threw Dorothy from her seat on the cart, and she turned her attention back to the road ahead. The cart was an appalling poor thing, its wheels rough circles of wood banded with a steel collar. The sides of the cart were made of woven willow branches designed to keep loads in and not keep the elements out. The war-horse that Dorothy had picked also resented the task it had been given and regularly pulled at the bit, shaking its head trying to rid itself of the harness.  
  
"Shush!" Dorothy crooned at the animal "I know how you feel, its degrading to be used for something beneath you." And how well she understood that.  
  
All her life she had believed that she was destined to be more than just a nobleman's daughter, more than just a tool to be used in an arranged marriage. Her grandfather had seen her potential and had encouraged her in her beliefs. He had often sought her advice on the way he ran his estate, on which faction he should back, on whose favours he should seek. And she had done well with her advice, so well that she was noticed by many high powered men, including her cousin Treize.  
  
But then it had all gone wrong. Her grandfather had become too greedy for wealth and had started to lead raiding parties. The last she had seen of the old man was when they had bid each other farewell on his estate. She had urged him loudly to be proud and gain more honour in glorious battle. Her grandfather had, once again, heeded her advice and led a group of bandits on a raid into neighbouring Mercia. It was there that he and all his men were killed by a patrolling band of warriors. A band led by Heero Yuy.  
  
At the time Dorothy had been proud of her grandfathers glorious death, especially at the hand of a Prince. It was a death to be sung about and gloried in. Unfortunately, the King of Lindsey saw it a completely different way. He saw it as an act of aggression against a peaceful neighbour and sought forgiveness from his fellow King. And to do that he punished those who supported her grandfather. And that, in the main, was her.  
  
She had been banished herself to a convent that only accepted her because she had a significant dowry attached to her. Then Dorothy had suffered the ultimate humiliation of having her wondrous hair shorn from her head. She would rather have died.  
  
But still, revenge comes to those who wait patiently. And now it was her time. She was going to have her vengeance against the man who had killed her grandfather and in that act had assigned her to a living hell. She had stolen Heero Yuy's prize, she would be reunited with her cousin and she would be elevated back to the position that she deserved. She would be advisor to the High King and she would have the satisfaction of seeing Heero Yuy grovel before her.  
  
Her eyes narrowed as she thought of him, his arrogant and superior face staring at her as if she was below his notice. How she hated him. So much, that she could hardly rid her mind of his image; his blue eyes and his messy hair. She would teach him to treat her with disdain. He would soon learn that Dorothy Catalonia was a person that should be treated with nothing but respect.  
  
Relena groaned a little, causing Dorothy to look over her shoulder at the unconscious girl again. If she woke up, Dorothy was sure that she would have to hit her again. She smirked, it was something that she really did not mind doing. Relena was such an idiot to blindly follow Heero Yuy when she could freely have the glory that was Treize Kushrinada. Perhaps when Relena met her cousin all thoughts of Heero Yuy and his startling blue eyes would fade from her mind. Satisfied that Relena would stay asleep for a little while longer, Dorothy turned her eyes back to the road then pulled in the reins sharply.  
  
Ahead was a rider on a large war-horse blocking the road. For a moment Dorothy's heart lurched thinking that Heero had already found them. But then she realised that this was not Heero. The man was much taller and dressed in tight leather pants and jerkin, not the linen that the Mercians' favoured. He wore a cloak, unusual in so far as it had a hood. The hood was draped to hide the top half of his face from view, only his mouth was visible. Long blond hair cascaded over his shoulders, reminding Dorothy for a moment of her own lost locks.  
  
"What do you want!" she hailed him, wondering how he could see anything with his hood pulled so low. He did not reply, but rather urged his large black horse forward at a slow walk, his horse eerily blowing puffs of white air from its nostrils. The animal lifted its front legs high demonstrating that it was indeed a well-bred and expensive horse.  
  
Dorothy gripped hold of her reins tightly while mentally assessing whether she could turn the horse and cart around quickly and flee the man. She could, of course, ditch the cart, cut her horse free and escape on that. But that would mean giving up Relena and that she was not willing to do. Instead she allowed one hand to release the rein and travel down to the darkness of the bench upon which she sat. Hidden there was a sword that she had 'borrowed' from the village. If this man had ill intent, then she would fight him.  
  
He came parallel to her, and looked down from his massive horse, his face still hidden but his mouth drawn into a firm line. His black gloved pushed back his cloak to reveal a long sword sheathed at his side. Deliberately he curled his fingers around the hilt.  
  
"She is not yours." he said in slow measured tones, his voice clear and articulate.  
  
Dorothy's eyes narrowed in response. He was another after Relena, perhaps from some faction she was unaware of.  
  
"Neither is she yours!" she responded, pulling forth her own sword and delighting in the way it gleamed in the moonlight.  
  
She stood balanced on the cart and shrugged off her shawl so that she was unimpeded by the fabric. The man pulled his sword forth, and Dorothy almost gasped in delight at the sound that it made. It rang, no it practically sung in the cold night air. It was a blade of high quality, a princely weapon. Her own blade would be no match for it, but still she yearned to hear it sing in battle.  
  
She swung up, aiming at the man's midsection hoping that her aggression and speed would catch the man unaware. Alas, she was disappointed. He blocked her blow without effort, and her next three. He had the advantage of the extra height his horse gave him, together with the additional strength that being a man gave him. She had the inferior position, weapon and strength. However, she would not give up. She would battle to the death if necessary.  
  
Again, she swung at him, but then after he blocked the move she turned around and used her speed to strike a blow that she was sure he would not have time to counter. She was wrong. Steel struck steel and sparks danced out into the night sky. He had anticipated her move, his movements fast as lightening, and had once more blocked her move. This time to the destruction of her sword; she could feel from the way it vibrated in her hand that it had been notched at least by the man's superior sword.  
  
Her hand numbed by the blow she would only watch helpless as he bought his blade up to her neck. She stared at him, trying to get a glimpse of his face but his hood remained covering all but his mouth.  
  
"What do you wait for?" she asked, tilting her head back slightly in proud defiance. She was determined to face her death with dignity, even though disappointment welled up in her heart; she had been so close to achieving her goal with Relena.  
  
The horseman said nothing, but lowered his sword using it to flick Dorothy's dropped weapon from the cart. She stood still watching his actions feeling suddenly weak kneed because she knew at that moment he did not mean to kill her. The horsemen urged his mount to walk forward so that he was now behind the cart. He looked at Relena lying still and pale in the back before looking back up at Dorothy.  
  
"She is not yours," he said again as he sheathed his sword. Leaning down from his horse he took Relena's arm and dragged her up into the saddle before him. Relena remained unaware of all, her head lolling back, her mouth partially open, her lips blue with the cold.  
  
"Who are you?" Dorothy demanded. Her fists clenched at her sides revealed her frustration.  
  
For a moment she thought that he would not reply so intent he was in wrapping his cloak around the half-frozen girl. Then he looked directly at her. His face was still hidden by the shadows of the night, but she felt as if his eyes were boring into her very soul itself. "Good Night Miss Catalonia." he said before urging his horse away into the night.  
  
Dorothy bit her lip to refrain from crying out after him, instead she sunk to her knees her head bowed low. She had lost the battle and lost the prize. She had been so close to winning, and now all was lost. How was she to face Treize when they met? And how did that man know her name?  
  
She ignored the cold seeping into her knees as she remained kneeling in the snow. Slowly she bought her temper under control assessing her options. She could either return to Treize admitting defeat, or she could follow Relena either to steal her away again or lead her cousin easily to her.  
  
Dorothy slowly began to smile. She loved a challenge; she would follow and this time she would not loose.  
* * * *  
Heero sat comfortably by the fire and listened to the minstrel sing the deeds of battles fought long ago, a large tankard of beer held in his hand. He restrained the urge to down it in one as so many of his men had done. Instead he savoured it enjoying the comfort of a hearth which he had not enjoyed for what felt a very long. A life in the saddle was fine and good, but he missed the comforts of home. He closed his eyes feeling weary after the long ride and could not help but think of how tired the princess would be. She was not used to days of travelling, not after being confined to a convent for so long. It took great effort on his part not to open his eyes and search the room for her to make sure of her comfort.  
  
Relena needed time away from him, of this he was sure. She knew now exactly who he was and that realisation was obviously not a pleasant one. Her look of shock and incomprehension was one that would stay with him for a long time. He could see her mind working out what she really meant to him. Or what she thought she really meant to him; a potential bride or a potential stepmother.  
  
The decision, of course, was in the hands of the King.  
  
He could not suppress the shudder that wracked him as he thought of his father's hands upon her. It was not that he didn't have the greatest respect for him, and he would obey any command that his father gave. But the thought of Relena belonging to any other man, the idea that Relena could be touched by any other man, the concept that Relena would be kissed by any other man instantly repulsed him.  
  
Any other man, but him.  
  
Heero groaned and took a sip of his beer without opening his eyes. She was such an infuriating woman, so trusting and honest. Of course, she would never be so trusting of him again and would never look into his eyes again with her innocent eyes without reproach showing in them. Perhaps he should have been honest at the beginning with her, but it was too late for wishful thinking now. He could no more change the past than he could fly. He would have to deal with her reaction now that the truth was out. And, of course, the perfect way of dealing with it was to completely distance himself from her.  
  
He had thought to go and explain why he had omitted the truth, but that had changed when Heero and seen Duo stumble over to her with an inane grin on his face and an extra goblet in his hand. He had seen her smile at his foster brother and any thoughts on confronting her that night had disappeared. Instead he had turned his back and ignored her secure in that Duo was on hand to protect her even though he had already had a significant amount to drink.  
  
He frowned at his thoughts trying to free his mind of the image of her wrapped in his arms as they rode his horse, of the scent of her hair, the softness of her skin. It was so easy just to fall into the dream of her and remain there comforted and contended.  
"Well, what are you smirking about?" came a familiar voice and Heero opened his eyes to see Hilde crouching beside him, her dark hair caught back in a leather thong, her peplos dress replaced by tunic and leggings.  
  
Heero blinked a couple of times thinking that the ale must be stronger than he supposed, or maybe the villagers had spiked it with the infamous mushroom that made its consumers dream happy dreams. He blinked again as Hilde waved her hand before his face.  
  
"Hello?" she asked, her mouth taking on its familiar cheeky smile. "Oh dear. The smile is gone and now you just look a little dim." she said with disappointment.  
  
Heero surged to his feet lifting her by the arms as he did so, nearly spilling the contents of his tankard down her front. "Hilde!" he exclaimed, lifting her into a tight embrace "What in Frea's name are you doing here?"  
  
She smiled and explained how word had come through that the warband was close to home and that she wanted to meet up with Duo as she had missed him. Heero's face went from grin to grimace as he berated her from travelling alone in such risky times. Whilst he scolded he looked around to see if he could see Duo and Relena; he would not have Hilde hurt by witnessing Duo fawning over the princess.  
  
"What a remarkable display your face is putting on tonight." Hilde commented, her eyebrow raised slightly as Heero's eyes swept the hall. "It's enough to scare even the most easy of maidens away," She placed a hand on Heero's shoulder "Just who are you looking for?" she asked.  
  
"Duo," Heero said curtly, squinting through the haze of smoke.  
  
"Don't bother about him." Hilde smiled, taking the tankard from Heero's hand and sipping from it. "He has passed out under one of the benches. He knows I am here, I talked to him when I arrived," she broke off as she saw the stony look Heero was wearing.  
  
"The girl." he grated, his face stern and serious "Where is the girl?"  
  
Hilde looked confused "What girl Heero?" she asked puzzled.  
  
Heero did not pause to tell her any more, instead he pushed his way through the intoxicated men trying to seek out Duo and his charge. Duo he found easily enough; flat on his back, his mouth open slightly as he snored. Heero grabbed the front of his jerkin and pulled him up to a sitting position, shaking him slightly as he did so. Duo snorted in protest, but his eyes did not open. Heero almost snarled in his anger and let Duo drop back to the floor; he knew he would get nothing out of his foster brother tonight.  
  
Hilde cried out in protest and knelt by the drunk Duo pulling his head to her lap, stroking his forehead lovingly. Heero was aware of her glare and that she said something to him, but he was too distracted to hear what she said.  
  
Relena was missing.  
  
There was no sign of her in the hall, nor was there any sign of Sister Dorothy. Heero considered what might have happened. If Hilde had suddenly arrived and announced that she was betrothed to Duo, then Relena might have been upset, might have left the hall to distance herself from his idiot brother.  
  
Hoping that he was correct, Heero pushed his way to the entrance to the hall and ducked out into the cold night air. He breathed deeply trying to clear his head of the smoke and fumes of the hall. Looking around he considered what direction she might have gone; the village was not large and he was sure that she would not have been foolish enough to leave its boundary.  
  
Walking swiftly, Heero began to walk around the periphery of the village, refraining from calling to her but carefully scanning the ground for any signs of her passing. At the penned horses he found what he was looking for; footprints in the snow, small enough to be hers and Dorothy's. Heero frowned. There was also sign of a struggle, the imprint of a body in the snow, a discarded length of wood, and signs that someone had been dragged away.  
  
Swearing, Heero ran to his horse. Relena had managed to get herself into trouble yet again. Without bothering to saddle or bridle his horse, Heero mounted it swiftly. It was a well-trained steed and Heero could ride just as well without reins. His hands grasped onto its mane and he used his legs to urge the horse to jump the fence. Once over, he directed it by nudging the horse with his knees and he followed the tracks that the horse and cart had made.  
  
He felt cold, he had not bought his cloak or his gloves with him. He did, however, have the one thing that he needed to ensure Relena's safe return. His sword. His eyes narrowed. And he would use it, if necessary, even if the perpetrator turned out to be Dorothy. He would not allow her to steal away his princess.  
* * * *  
Relena woke coughing hard, her hands wiping at her mouth and nose trying to dislodge the mud that clung there making it difficult to breath. She felt comforting pats on her back and realised that she was being held in strong arms, a cloak wound around her.  
  
."Heero?"  
  
She managed to gasp out the name between coughs, but could do little else other than try and catch her breath. Her hands were shivering uncontrollably and she felt as her very bones were made of ice.  
  
"No."  
  
The voice that replied was not that of Heero's. With effort, Relena squinted up at the figure that held her securely in his arms. His face was partially obscured by his cloak that he wore draped across his head, shadowing his face. His blond hair glowed in the moonlight and looked almost like silver upon the ebony of his cloak  
  
".who?" Relena could manage no more, she again began to cough deeply.  
  
"I am a friend," The man replied, again rubbing her back.  
  
She tensed at the sensation uncertain of his intentions and immediately he stopped. Relena tried to remain as still as possible in his arms, wondering whether she should take this stranger at his word. This was the third time in a week that she had found herself the captive of a stranger and she was beginning to wonder just how many times God was going to allow this to happen to her.  
  
Rubbing her forehead, absently feeling the dirt come away, Relena tried to remember what had happened to her. She remembered the shock of finding Heero was a prince, the declaration of Duo's and then Dorothy's urging to go with her. Relena sat straight.  
  
"You're Treize Kushrinada, aren't you?" she whispered horrified and more frightened than she had been in a long while.  
  
The man chuckled. "No, I am not," he said, "Although you were on your way to meet up with him. I think your nun friend was not such a friend as you had supposed."  
  
"Dorothy..." Relena murmured grimly, remembering the blow that the nun had given her. "Where is she?"  
  
"Gone back to her cousin Treize, I think," The man said. "She was no friend of yours, Relena. You should not be so trusting."  
  
Relena could not help but smile a little. "I have heard that a great many times over the last few days; mainly from Dorothy herself."  
  
"Its good advice," the man smiled, Relena could see his teeth gleam white as his hair did. "But given with selfish intentions."  
  
Silence fell between them, Relena's cough gradually easing as the panic she felt dissipated. She felt oddly at ease with this man, a strange sense of familiarity was about him. Curious, she tried to ask his identity again.  
  
"Have I met you before?" she asked, watching his shadowy face closely "What is your name/"  
  
His only response was to halt the horse. For a moment Relena thought that she had offended or angered the man, but then her ears caught the sounds of hoof fall approaching rapidly. Ahead of them was a rider, rapidly travelling, a sword held up in his hand. A yell was given warning them to stand where they were and Relena realised with a sudden leap of her heart that it was Heero. She found herself grinning inanely as she realised he had come to rescue her.  
  
The rider holding her lifted his arms to show that he was not holding a weapon and waited patiently for Heero to draw near, murmuring only to calm the horse which had started to back and fidget nervously at the approach of the other war horse.  
  
Relena tried to inconspicuously rub some more of the dirt from her face, suddenly conscious that her appearance was probably laughable. She had, she remembered, landed face first in mud and indeed her mouth felt gritty from ingested dirt. As Heero stared at the man who held her, she tried to look refined, regal and in control of the situation. The effect was ruined when another fit of coughing overtook her.  
  
Instantly the man who rescued her lowered his hands to support her on the horse. Heero, at the same moment, pointed his sword directly at the man, the tip dangerously close to the man's neck.  
  
"Let go of her," Heero growled  
  
For a moment the blonde man did not, and Relena could see that both men were giving each other equally cold stares. Heero tapped the point of his sword against the man's shoulder.  
  
"I wont say it again." He said, eyes like flint.  
  
"Heero Yuy," the other replied, giving Relena's arms a squeeze of reassurance before lifting her down from the horse and letting her go as her feet touched the frosty ground. He backed his horse away from Relena, and away from the reach of Heero's sword. "Listen well. You have been unforgivably careless so far. If you are again, you will not have Relena back. Do you understand?"  
  
Heero's eyes had widened as the man addressed him by name and his hold on his sword relaxed a little as he saw the man was relinquishing her. But the final demand once again had him scowling. Relena ignored him, instead turned to her rescuer who was turning his horse about to ride away.  
  
"Wait!" She pleaded, holding out an arm in an imploring gesture. "Please tell me who you are!"  
  
The man nodded to her before urging his horse into a trot. Over his shoulder he called back to her.  
  
"I am known as Zechs Marquis."  
  
TBC 


	10. Chapter 10

AN: Thank you very much for all the wonderful reviews! Seems that most of you were delighted to see Millardo enter the story. For those who were confused, all should become clear in this chapter.  
  
Thanks to: Dementer - I really enjoy writing Dorothy and she will continue to play a role ^^, Cori, LSR-7, momma'sman, gfhgfgfhhf, Blade Griffin, animegurlie45, wayofwater, Kat Morning - the image of the plot coagulating was an interesting one ^^, Destinys Serenade - all will become clear in due course, May, Pink Sakura, Water Lily, Bunny, Sage, KaT aka Mistress Shinigami, Ladybug, animechick2487, Raye, Lady Lydia, Faraday, Jewls - mmmm, yes poor Relena might just get a little ill from her experience ^^, mscad - don't be confused! All will become clear (I hope), aud - LOL, I certainly didn't take offence at your first review! And mama-sama  
  
A warning now; I wont be updating for a little while. I want to more or less finish this story before posting again to be sure that I am not creating any plot holes. Be assured, I will finish it (Im writing chapter 16 now). I promise! If you want to know when next I update, just add me to your author alerts. I subscribe to ff.net so you ought to get an email when the next chapter is up.  
  
I love to get reviews, so do please let me know what you think of it all so far ^^  
  
Cynehelme  
  
by kmf  
  
Rating: PG13  
  
Warnings: AU  
  
Standard Disclaimer Applies  
Chapter Ten  
  
Zechs Marquis led his horse quietly up a heavily wooded hill, mindful of any that might be watching his progress. There would not be many about on such a cold morning, but he would not take any chances. Being cautious had seen him preserve his life thus far; he was not about to throw it all away. Not when he had finally found his sister.  
  
Near the top of the incline he halted. Before him was a little shack of a house, hastily constructed but sound enough to brave the inclement weather. It was partially sunk into the ground to afford better shelter and through the circular roof smoke issued forth. The wind was up so any trace disappeared before it drifted too far, but still it gave the huts position away to Zechs.  
  
He tethered his horse up to a tree and approached the entrance carefully, his feet deliberately avoiding any stray twig or branch that might be in his way. At the entrance he stooped, his hand on his sword, and peered inside. Beside the fire lay a woman, small and dark. She lay on her side upon a rough woollen cloak. One arm was nested under her head, the other lay gentle over a bundle of clothes. Her dress laces were open revealing creamy swollen breasts.  
  
Zechs entered the hut, a small smile on his face. Carefully he removed his cloak and then silently crouched beside the woman. The bundle in her arms began to squirm and little fists appeared reaching upwards, shaking in agitation. A wail issued forth, angry and high pitched before stopping only for a brief snatch of breath. The woman sleepily opened her eyes then scooped the bundle close to her chest, wincing as the babies hungry mouth latched on to her breast. The cries stopped and the woman gave a heartfelt sigh, closing her eyes again.  
  
Zechs knelt behind her and lowered his head so that it was close to hers, then blew gently into her ear. Her eyes instantly snapped open, her arms holding the child to her protectively as she surged to a sitting position. The scream that had been on her lips faded as she saw who it was that had intruded into her little temporary home. Instead the child began to wail as it was startled into removing his mouth from his mother's nipple.  
  
"Millardo!" The woman cried out in irritation, then at the warning frown he gave her bit her lip and amended herself "Zechs!" she paused to attach the baby once more, then threw herself into Zech's arms. "You scared me!"  
  
Zechs chuckled, but didn't apologise. Instead, he luxuriated in holding his wife close to him, smelling the fragrance of her hair, and gazing down on the bald wonder that was his son. Dropping a kiss on her up turned lips he let her go and slowly caressed the cheek of the now contented child who was making wonderfully loud sucking noises.  
  
"Sorry Lucrezia," He apologised, his mouth smiling at the small hands that reached forth to hold on to his mother.  
  
"Did you find her?" Lucrezia Noin had always been a direct woman, and got straight to the point.  
  
"Aye," Zechs nodded "But it was a close thing."  
  
He stared into the flames of the small fire, watching them dance hungrily. Whenever he looked at fire now it always reminded him of the last day that his father was alive and when he, Millardo Peacecraft, was High Prince and heir to the Kingdom of Kent.  
  
He and Lucrezia had been lucky that day. His father, sensing that his forces would not be able to repel the attack from Lindsey, had instructed Millardo to flee with Lucrezia who was heavily pregnant with their first child. Millardo had protested at first but then reluctantly agreed when his father told him in no uncertain terms just what would befall Lucrezia and their unborn child should they be caught.  
  
As it was, they almost left it too late to escape the conflagration that once was the King's residence. Lucrezia could not move fast, so round and heavy with child, and on a number of occasions they had come very close to being detected by enemy patrols. From a distance they had huddled in a ditch and watched as their home was put to the torch, their people rounded up and made to swear new allegiance and questioned as to the whereabouts of the crown prince and his wife.  
  
Most had pointed solemnly to the burning halls believing that he and Lucrezia had been trapped there and eventually Treize accepted that Millardo and his heir had died in the pyre that consumed the High King's body. And that suited Millardo at the time; his priority was to get his wife and child to safety before seeking the revenge he so desperately wanted to achieve.  
  
The birth of his son had changed that. Lucrezia had walked bravely alongside her husband hiding the fact that she was in labour. When she had finally groaned in pain Millardo found to his amazement that the child had already nearly entered the world.  
  
The new prince of Kent had an ignominious entrance into the world. Rather than being born in a well furnished chamber with experienced midwifes aiding the process, he was born in a ditch, his mother biting on a stick to suppress the need to vocalise her pain and his father the first to hold his bloody little form.  
  
They had been extraordinarily lucky that neither mother nor child had taken ill from the experience, the boy had been large and strong pausing only in his cries to latch onto his mother's breast and suckle with vigour. It had been when Millardo had seen his first son in Lucrezia's arms that all thought of vengeance had flown. It had been replaced with the overwhelming need to keep them both safe. The baby would never be safe whilst he was heir to the High Kings throne; to Millardo's throne. So Millardo decided that he and his wife and child would remain dead to the world, they would take on new identities and thus would live a simpler and hopefully safer life.  
  
He had, of course, forgotten about Relena.  
  
He had not seen his only sister since she was a toddler, a tiny little blond thing with huge serious eyes. He had been upset when his father had sent her off to a nunnery, but his father had been adamant that he keep his dead wife's vow.  
  
Millardo had been reminded of the girl when he dreamed of her one night as he and Lucrezia made their way secretively across the lands searching for a place where they could remain safe. She had still been a toddler, smiling up at him as if he was her hero. When he awoke he knew that he could not leave her to be taken by Treize Kushrinada.  
  
Lucrezia had not protested. She had dutifully agreed to all his choices even though he could see that she did not always agree. She had not asked exactly what Millardo planned to do, which was just as well as Millardo himself was not sure. He could not, would not, risk the world knowing that he, his wife and his child were still alive. He would not put them at risk again. However, he needed to make sure that Relena was safe.  
  
His first action was to steal a horse to enable them to move more swiftly. Millardo had felt guilty at doing such a thing, but justified it by observing that the owner of the horse had many others and was a rich man. Time was short and he could not waste time on morals.  
  
Luck was with them once again when they happened upon Heero's warband travelling across the frozen landscape, two women with them. Millardo had crept close at night carefully evading the sentries that patrolled their camp, and had been relieved to see that one was indeed Relena. The other, he recognised as Dorothy Catalonia, a woman with a reputation of deviousness and cousin to Kushrinada himself.  
  
Satisfied that Relena was safe, Millardo had returned to his wife and child safely encamped a little further on and reported to her what he had found. Millardo had felt anger that Mercia had claimed the woman, but then Lucrezia had pointed out that if Relena was now the Queen of Kent then someone was going to claim her. Unless, of course, Millardo was willing to announce to the world that he was in fact alive and well. Millardo had brooded about this all night. He wanted to protect his wife and child and he wanted to protect Relena. It seemed that he could not do both.  
  
In the end he had decided that Mercia was a better choice than Lindsey was and that he would follow to ensure that Relena safely made it to the King of that land. He felt ill at ease that Dorothy Catalonia was travelling with them and had a foreboding feeling that nothing good would come of it.  
  
And, of course, he had been proven correct.  
  
Having found a little abandoned hut he had installed his wife and child there before going to check on his sister. He found his sister not where he expected her to be, safe and protected, but rather unconscious out in the cold. The irritation he felt towards Dorothy for attacking his sister was nothing compared to the irritation he felt towards Heero Yuy for allowing it to happen. He had almost refused to give Relena back to the man, and was completely serious about his warning. If Heero allowed anything else to happen to his sister, then Millardo would take Relena away from him.  
  
"Stop scowling and tell me what happened." Lucrezia prodded him and he blinked rapidly realising that he had been staring too long into the flames and that his eyes were now dry. He did as his wife requested, expressing his worry that Heero might not be strong enough to protect her.  
  
Lucrezia smiled a little as she unlatched the baby from her breast. She sat him on her knee, one hand supporting his chest and head whilst the other rubbed the child's back. The baby was asleep and made no protest other than frowning. "It seems to me that no one is strong enough to protect her other than you." The baby jerked a little at the sound of its mother's voice before letting loose a rather large belch. Its eyes flew open at the noise, before yawning and closing its eyes again. Lucrezia lifted him to her shoulder and he nuzzled into her neck. Again she patted his back as she talked. "Treize is unlikely to give up trying to claim her, even though she is now on Mercia land. This could lead to war."  
  
Millardo sighed and nodded agreeing with her.  
  
"By fleeing from our obligations we put many peoples lives at risk." she continued, looking at him solemnly. "I would not like to be responsible for any bloodshed."  
  
Millardo took her hand in his "I will not put your life at risk again, Lucrezia." he said firmly "And any loss of blood would firmly lay on Treize Kushrinada's head."  
  
Lucrezia squeezed his hand. "So then maybe you should ensure that Treize Kushrinada is no longer a threat."  
* * * *  
Relena stood and watched the stranger ride away, watching him fade into the greys and blacks of the night. She rolled his name in her mouth, startled by the strangeness of the sounds. There was something so familiar about him, yet she did not know what.  
  
...Zechs Marquis...  
  
Her musings were interrupted by a cold hand grasping on to her arm pulling her so that she spun around. Heero stared down at her, his blue eyes raking over her assessing her for damage. He frowned at what he saw.  
  
Blushing, Relena bought a dirty hand up to her equally dirty face trying to wipe some more of the mud off. Even though she had no control over her current state she felt embarrassed to be seen this way; her face little cleaner than a beggars, her robe torn and, she suddenly realised, one leather slipper was now missing. Her foot cold as ice, she lifted it from the snowy ground attempting to balance on her one shod foot without being obvious about it.  
  
He said nothing, only gently raised his hands and felt the back of her head. Relena winced as he made contact with the bump that Dorothy had inflicted upon her. His hand moved through her hair, ignoring its knotted dirty state, and traced her jaw line; his touch so light that it was almost non-existent. She thought that at any moment he would explain why he had kept the truth of his status from her, give her a reason why he had deceived her. And at that moment any reason he could give would have satisfied her; she just needed to hear the words.  
  
But still he said nothing.  
  
Finally his hands dropped away. Relena breathed a sigh of relief tinged with disappointment before breaking eye contact with him. Why was it that he refused to speak to her even now when she knew all that there was to know? Eager to distance herself from the awkwardness she felt towards Heero, she turned to see if Zechs was still visible. He wasn't, the night had swallowed up all trace of him as if he had never been there.  
  
Heero took the opportunity to retrieve his horse, leading it to her. After breathing a few words into the horse's ear to keep it still, he lifted her up so that she was sitting upon it. He then climbed up himself and placed his arms around her to steady her. He was not warm as Zechs had been, his clothes felt icy in the night air and she realised that he did not have the benefit of a cloak.  
  
A cough welled up once more in Relena's throat, which she tried to suppress. Unfortunately, it was too much for her and she soon found herself doubled over coughing hard, her eyes watering. No comforting hand this time rubbed her back. Indeed, Heero seemed to ignore her. Instead of aiding her he urged his horse into a walk.  
  
Still he said nothing.  
  
Finally, when her spasm had receded she could not maintain the silence any longer. Biting her lip, she asked croakily "Are you angry with me?"  
  
She felt herself shake slightly in anticipation of the answer. He certainly looked angry. But the answer, when it came, was negative.  
  
"No," he said.  
  
There was a pause, Relena felt the silence oppressive and she shivered again. He tightened his arms around her as if he was trying to give her as much of his warmth as he could. She bit her lip, wincing at the gritty taste it gave her. Bowing her head, she asked him another question.  
  
"Am I to marry your father?" she asked.  
  
Heero's arms tightened around her even more. For a moment he did not speak. She could not see his expression, her lap was suddenly far to interesting to look up from.  
  
"If that is what he wishes," Heero said, his voice rough and angry.  
  
Relena knew that she was pushing him, but she had to ask a third question.  
  
"Is it what you want?"  
  
This time there was no response.  
* * * *  
  
Duo's head hurt. Badly. Without opening his eyes he lifted his hands to his head and cradled it gently. Experimenting he let out a groan, which instantly made his head throb.  
  
"Gods," he thought, "What was in that beer?"  
  
Attempting to return to the comforting state of unconsciousness, he tried to blank his mind but the sensation of something hugging his back prevented him from achieving that blessed state. Mind muzzy and tongue thick, he tried to work out who or what would be embracing him.  
  
The sudden remembrance of his declaration for Relena made his eyes snap open.  
  
Mistake!  
  
He closed them quickly and waited for the pain to abate a little. Another groan came from his mouth, this time unbidden. He had told Relena he loved her and, given the fact that she was cuddling into his back, she had returned the feeling. What was he going to tell Heero? More importantly what was he going to tell Hilde?  
  
He felt sick. Not just due to the hangover he was experiencing. Why on earth did he tell Relena that he loved her? To a certain extent it was true; he had never met before such a kind and caring woman. She was beautiful, her long pale hair and clear eyes would tempt any man. And Duo had allowed himself to be drawn to her, despite the fact that he was betrothed to Hilde.  
  
...Hilde...  
  
For some reason an image of her dressed as a lad came into his addled brain. He grinned at the thought; the idea was just too cute. Unfortunately moving the muscles in his face made his head feel like it was about to fall apart again and rather than groan this time he whimpered feeling very sorry for the mess that he was in.  
  
Movement sounded behind him and the warmth of the body holding him was gone. Duo willed himself to stay as still as possible as he felt a hand caress his head. Let her think I'm asleep, he willed over and over again. He was unready to confront the now probably not so innocent eyes of Relena Peacecraft. The caress was withdrawn and Duo could hear her moving away. He breathed a sigh of relief.  
  
He did not feel strong enough to talk to her straight away. How was he going to explain this situation? As much as he adored her, she was not destined for him. She was to be Queen of Britain and in all probability Heero was to be her husband. Duo grimaced anticipating what Heero's reaction was going to be. Heero had staked his claim over the young princess for anyone to see and of course by doing so he had made Relena unattainable and just so much more attractive in Duo's eyes.  
  
And what was he going to say to Hilde? How was he to explain to the woman he had loved since childhood that he had declared himself to another? She would not understand his weakness and he did not think she would forgive him either. After all, they were betrothed; they had promised each other that they would wed in the near future. If he had found that Hilde had suddenly declared herself to some man, he would be horrified. He would feel betrayed and disappointed. If he found that she had slept with another man, Duo would probably take great pleasure in beating the crap out of him.  
  
Duo couldn't help the third groan. What on earth was he going to do to resolve this situation. He couldn't bear the thought of either girl's eyes; both hurt and betrayed, both accusing him of lying to them.  
  
Sounds came from outside the hall and a shout of alarm from a sentry alerting the warband of trouble. Around him Duo heard other groans, which almost made Duo smile. At least he wasn't the only one sporting a hangover this morning. Pushing himself up to a sitting position, he scratched an itch in his hair before gradually opening his eyes. What he saw made him blink in surprise and shock.  
  
Sitting cross-legged before him, a grin on her face, was Hilde. Dressed as a lad. Just as he imagined. She thrust a tankard of something hot to him, which he accepted without question, unable to take his eyes off her.  
  
"Hilde?" he asked when he could make his mouth work, ignoring the pounding in his skull scarcely able to believe his eyes. He looked down at the brew he held and saw bark swimming around in the liquid.  
  
"You don't remember, do you?" Hilde's expression was wry. "That doesn't surprise me, you seemed to have drunk the hall dry by the time I arrived last night," she nodded at the drink he held. "Drink it all down now, its willow bark tea and it will help the sore head I am sure you are experiencing."  
  
Duo obeyed, sipping the bitter brew half an ear on the voices that were outside. His eyes never left Hilde "Was that you...?" he asked his voice low and thin even to his ears.  
  
"Holding you?" Hilde smiled gently "Touching you?" she lent closer, her lips dangerously close to his ear "Kissing you?" she breathed softly. She gave him a punch on the arm as she leaned back and glared at him. "Just who else would it be, Duo Maxwell?" she demanded loudly.  
  
Duo winced, his head exploding with her loud words. If there was a God, he wished that He would grant him a swift death.  
  
"Duo!" a man called into the hall, his voice loud and demanding Duo's attention.  
  
"Sorry Hilde," Duo placed the cup back in Hilde's hands, swiftly pressing a kiss to her lips "Duty calls!" he got to his feet unsteadily and weaved his way to the door, narrowing his eyes against the early dawn light which he considered to be remarkably bright.  
  
Outside, Heero's horse was being saddled and bridled. Heero stood next to it, accepting a cloak and provisions from another man. Next to him was Relena, shivering in the morning air and occasionally coughing. She was a sorry bedraggled figure, her face dirty, her hair in tangles, and her gown crumpled and soiled.  
  
"What happened?" Duo was instantly alert, removing his own cloak and wrapping it around the girl who had started to cough. She smiled her thanks to him.  
  
"You are forever surrendering your cloak to me," she murmured her smile bright and brave.  
  
Heero glared at Duo, and put the cloak in his hands about his own shoulders. "Relena and I ride at once for my villa," he said.  
  
Duo suppressed the groan he wanted to mutter; he had no wish to ride hard just yet especially when he was still recovering from the after effects of the heady brew consumed the night before. Heero saw his look and smirked.  
  
"You follow as soon as the troops are ready. Do a sweep to make sure that Treize's men are not near by. If they are, deal with them. I would not leave this village unprotected."  
  
"What-?" Duo started to ask again, but Heero had turned to strap the provisions to his saddle.  
  
"I will not stay and risk Relena being taken again. Treize is close, I can feel it. She will be safer in a stronghold than out in the open," Heero turned to Relena and lifted her up into the saddle.  
  
"Dorothy Catalonia is Treize's cousin," she said between coughs.  
  
Duo watched as Heero climbed up into the saddle beside her. Of course, it made sense now. He had known that there was some element of mystery behind Dorothy. There had been rumours in the nunnery that she had caused someone great offence and that was the reason why she was placed there. And Duo knew from the way she had glared at him when he mentioned it that there was an element of truth in it. He frowned, forcing his hangover-impeded head to work the facts out. His eyes widened.  
  
"Where is she now?" he asked and Heero shrugged. Duo shook his head "Listen, Heero. If she is Treize's cousin, then that raiding party - the one led by Dermail-"  
  
Heero held his hand up. "I know, Duo," he said forestalling his foster brother's words. Relena twisted in his arms looking puzzled, but as usual Heero ignored her questioning looks.  
  
"Heero, take some men with you for protection. Dorothy is a sly one," Duo tried to talk reason into the man who seemed determined to ignore him.  
  
"We will move faster alone. I will meet you at the villa tomorrow," Heero said, before nodding at Duo "Take care of Hilde. You might want to try explaining to her again why it is not a good idea to travel alone; now that you are less drunk."  
  
Duo turned his head to see that Hilde was at his side. She was grinning up at Heero as she grasped Duo's hand in hers. Duo turned back to Heero and saw that Relena was staring at Hilde, her eyes wide and curious. She gave a little smile to him before Heero urged his mount away.  
  
He watched them ride away, Heero's cloak swirling in the dim morning light and he could not but sigh in relief. He had not slept with Relena Peacecraft. True, he had made a declaration of his love for her, but it seemed to him by her gentle expression that she had taken it for what it was; the drink declaring a thing that should never have been said. He grinned slightly, congratulating himself on getting out of what could have been a rather messy situation.  
  
Hilde poked him in the ribs. "Who was that girl?" she demanded.  
  
Duo winced.  
  
Or maybe not.  
tbc 


	11. Chapter 11

Sorry for the delay in posting this ^^ Still havent finished writing it all, it looks like its going to be around 22 chapters in length. But Im happy with the plot development now so I will start to post again. Hope you like it, and please do let me know what you think ^^  
  
Cynehelme  
  
by kmf  
  
Rating: PG13 Warnings: AU  
  
Standard Disclaimer Applies  
Chapter Eleven  
  
Treize was beginning to loose his patience. Most of the men were unaware of it, their leader's demeanour was remarkably cool and collected considering they had failed to catch up with the runaway princess. However, Wufei, who prided himself on knowing his Lord, could tell.  
  
If anything the more annoyed Treize got, the quieter and calmer he appeared. He made no comments when scouts returned reporting that their prey was no nearer, he would quietly inspect his gloves, or smooth his cloak. He would nod to the men and instruct them to continue on, to avoid the small pockets of population, to focus only on the ones they sought. Wufei knew though that inside he was seething with anger at being denied what was rightfully his. And the Shamen knew too.  
  
Everyday Une became more aggressive; arrogant to the men and to the prisoners. The quieter Treize was, the angrier Une was; it was as if she was a reflection of what he sought to hide. The men were all afraid of Une, afraid of the symbols she carried and afraid of the veiled threats she would utter. In fact, of all the group only four were unaffected by her increasing belligerence.  
  
Wufei himself was unafraid, Une had no power over him; he did not believe in the spirits that she supposedly communicated with and became possessed by. He didn't believe in any God, not since Meiran had died. Trieze was unafraid; he knew that Une was completely devoted to him. If anything, Wufei thought that Treize enjoyed Une stirring the men up; it increased their devotion to their calm and fearless leader. Trowa, the prisoner, was unafraid. Wufei was not sure whether it was because he was a brave man or just because he was ignorant of the supposed power Une carried. In fact, it seemed to Wufei that Trowa was drawn to the Shamen. And lastly Sally was unafraid.  
  
He watched her as they rode, sitting tall and proud in her saddle. Sally was a defiant prisoner, gloating every time the scouts returned with no new news, openly defiant towards Treize and scathing towards Une. Wufei did not know whether to be impressed by her bravery or annoyed by her stupidity. Sally seemed to have an unwavering faith that God would get her out of the mess she had found herself in, that her friend the princess would be left alone and that she herself would be returned to the nunnery.  
  
That was, unfortunately for her, most unlikely. Trieze was an honourable man, but when he no longer had a use for Sally, or if she annoyed him once too often, the chances were that she would be abandoned in the wilds. Or worse; given to the men. Wufei scowled at that thought. Already some of the men had taken to looking at her too closely for Wufei's liking and he had had to warn them off. The problem was that she was a fine looking woman, even dressed in the unflattering dress of a nun and with her hair cropped short. She was very appealing.  
  
Especially when she was angry.  
  
Her eyes would flash and her body would sing with repressed energy. Wufei was sure that in another life she had been a great warrior, perhaps one that was too proud and boastful so that in this life she was paying a penance by being a meek and humble nun. Wufei smirked. Well, not that meek or humble.  
  
He was still smirking when Sally turned her head as they rode and looked at him. Instantly he hid his smile, and turned his eyes away from her, looking instead beyond her to the track ahead. From his peripheral vision he could see that she continued to watch him for a little while, and he felt himself go a little hot despite the cold day. Was she admiring him? Did she find him attractive? She turned away again and Wufei allowed himself to study her profile again. It was ridiculous to think that she regarded the person responsible for her capture with anything other than hate. But still he could not help but wonder what it would be like to be looked upon by her with desire in her eyes.  
  
Which was a completely ridiculous and weak sentiment to harbour. She had sworn her life to a God, and he had sworn his life to Treize.  
  
A scout returning drew Wufei's attention from Sally. Trieze held a hand up to halt the party and waited for the scout to come close. Wufei urged his horse forward so that he was near enough to Treize to hear the news, as did, he noted, Une. The scout looked grim.  
  
"No closer Lord." was all he said, bowing his head and awaiting instructions.  
  
Trieze stared past the man at the trail ahead for a moment. Then he looked up into the cloud filled sky watching as rook flew over, its call harsh and mocking. Une looked at him, her face becoming harsh. She glared at the scout.  
  
"Back in the line solider!" she grated out.  
  
The man nodded and did as she bid without even checking with Treize. Wufei's eyes narrowed as he considered her. Truly that woman was too unstable to have such power over the men.  
  
Trieze stopped his consideration of the sky and looked at Wufei.  
  
"I believe that if we have not caught up with them yet, then we will not catch them," he said, rubbing his chin. "Soon they will be at their stronghold and with such forces as we have here we will have no chance of winning a siege," he looked at Trowa who sat still and straight on his horse. "Am I not correct?" he asked.  
  
Trowa stared at him for a moment, then replied. "Whether they head for the capital direct or for Heero Yuy's estate both will be too strong for you to overpower."  
  
Une smiled thinly "Does that mean you are giving up on the girl, Lord?" she asked, her voice oddly childlike and hopeful.  
  
Trieze shook his head. "You disappoint me Lady Une. I thought you had a better grasp of politics than this," he paused as she bowed her head, her hands trembling slightly as they grasped the reins. "I have two choices. The first is return to Kent and fight to defend my claim to the High Kings throne. The second is to bring a force into Mercia and fight to claim Relena Peacecraft as my bride to hold on to the High Kings throne."  
  
Une said nothing, her head still bowed in her submission. She obviously did not like to be a disappointment to her Lord thought Wufei.  
  
Treize continued. "Either way means war." he said looking to Trowa, who now ignored him and looked directly in front of himself. "I believe that it is up to me to be the aggressor in this matter."  
  
"We declare war on Mercia?" Wufei questioned noting that Trowa's fists were clenching as he worked against the knots that held him.  
  
Treize nodded and dismounted. At that signal, the rest of the men did so too. Wufei swiftly went to Trowa and pulled him from his horse. He shoved him to the ground.  
  
"Guard him closely!" he instructed two of the men "He has more incentive now to try and escape." He turned to Sally and pulled her more gently down from her horse. "You, stay close to me," he said, unwilling to trust any of the men to guarding her.  
  
Une stood close to Sally, smiling. "If she tries to escape I will take great pleasure in slitting the Mercian's throat," she declared.  
  
Sally went pale with the threat and Wufei knew that she would heed it. Treize, however, winced.  
  
"That is very inelegant, Lady," he chided as he opened his saddlebags.  
  
Again, Une lowered her head at the rebuke and moved away from her Lord. Treize spared her no glance at all, instead pulled forth some precious sheets of paper, together with a quill and ink. He looked at Sally "Make yourself useful," he instructed and gestured for her to come over. He handed her the small pottery jar of ink, and told her to uncork it. Once she had done so, he dipped his quill into it, loading the instrument with ink. Using the saddle on his horse as a table he proceeded to write several short notes on one of the pages.  
  
Wufei looked on curiously. He could not read and found the strange images that Treize produced fascinating. Treize noticed him looking and smiled. He looked at Sally. "You can read?" he asked as he tore the paper into strips, each containing a length of writing. He handed one to her, which she accepted after recorking the ink. "Read it," he instructed.  
  
Sally looked down at the spidery writing and read silently. She looked up at Treize, her eyes wide. He nodded at her encouraging before turning walking away to where the rest of the horses were.  
  
"It is an instruction for more men to be sent," Sally said quietly. "They are to be sent at once without waiting for provisions."  
  
Wufei nodded grimly. It took time to assemble provisions for an army, it was more efficient for them to plunder what they needed as they went. It seemed that the civilians were the ones that would be pay the highest price for the capture of Relena Peacecraft.  
  
The sound of a flurry of wings almost made him jump. Trieze had released four of the homing pigeons that they carried, each had a message bound to its foot. Their destinations were the generals waiting back in Trieze's stronghold. Not all would complete their journey, predators such as hawks would claim at least two of the birds, but with luck at least one would complete the journey. The instructions would be followed, troops assembled and dispatched.  
  
"...war," Sally breathed as she watched the birds disappear into the cloudy sky.  
  
Wufei nodded in agreement. It was the beginning of a war.  
* * * *  
Heero rode his horse hard and fast. He was determined to get Relena to the relative safety of his stronghold as quickly as possible; he had no idea where Dorothy Catalonia was and would not put it past her to try and snatch Relena away from him again. His horse worked hard, hooves slipping on occasion on the icy ground, but it knew it was close to home and Heero trusted it to find the safest possible way with little intervention from himself.  
  
His charge suffered the ride in silence for the most part, occasionally interrupted by bouts of coughing, not helped by the cold winter's air. She was indeed a sorry sight; hair matted with blood from the blow Dorothy had given her and face dirty. She had her eyes closed tight, but he knew that she was not sleeping. She was stiff against him, not relaxed as she had when they had ridden together before.  
  
He knew the reasons why, and he could not blame her. She no longer trusted him. But he could not focus on that for now. The most important thing was to get her to safety. He would not allow her to fall into the hands of Kushrinada. For the good of the people it would be better that she die rather than become a pawn in the hands of that man.  
  
Relena started coughing again, clutching at her sides as if they pained her. Heero frowned. He could do nothing to help her now apart from getting her as swiftly as possible to his home where his servants would see to her comforts and his healer druid could see to her health.  
  
She opened her eyes as her coughing eased and looked up at him, her eyes widening slightly to see him frowning at her. She looked apologetic, and lowered her eyes.  
  
"I am sorry," she said, barely audible over the thud if the hoofs of the horse on the road. "I am sorry for being so weak."  
  
His frown deepened to almost a scowl. He did not think that she was weak, but he would not say that out loud to her. He would not make declarations that could be construed by her as flattery. He wanted her to trust him once again, but it would be better for all concerned if he waited until after his father gave his decision as to which of them would wed her. Heero did not want to grow any closer to her when there was every probability that she would be his father's wife.  
  
He tensed again at the thought, and she sensing it raised her eyes again. Seeing his expression she almost recoiled from him, before murmuring again "..so sorry." She closed her eyes again, firmly and did not look at him again .  
  
Heero, irritated that he always seemed to be caught by her when he was having an unpleasant thought, pressed his heels into the horses flank urging it to greater speed.  
  
* * * *  
  
Quatre Winner stood in the hall of his Lord Heero Yuy unable to rid himself of the faint disquiet that he was feeling. The fire blazed hot and fierce in the hearth, but he felt chilled and cold. Pulling his cloak tight around him, he edged closer to the hearth, staring at the flames, his mind reaching out to try and locate what disturbed him so.  
  
"Master..?" Rashid stood beside him, his arms folded across his wide chest. He looked towards his young master with concern on his face, but knew better than to disturb his meditation. When Quatre did not reply, he lapsed into silence, but remained near at hand should anything be required of him.  
  
Quatre, used to his servant's presence, found it reassuring and not distracting. Staring into the flames he allowed himself to drift on the edge of consciousness almost tasting the air that surrounded him. Looking down at his cream tunic he saw the flames reflected upon the light cloth. The orange deepened to red, and then seemed to spread as if he was watching his own blood seep through his robe. The deep sense of foreboding assailed him again, and he stumbled back holding his side. Rashid instantly came forward to support his arm  
  
"What is it master?" Rashid asked, as Quatre straightened and turned from the fire.  
  
Hesitantly he pulled his hand away from his side and felt relief to see that there was no blood staining the fabric; it had been a vision. A warning perhaps. Of what, he was not sure. It could be a number of things, it could be a warning of war or it could be something more personal to him. He would have to meditate over this. He smiled reassuringly to Rashid. There was no point in upsetting his faithful servant.  
  
"It is nothing," he held up a hand in appeasement.  
  
Rashid, however, did not look convinced. Quatre had to smile; the man knew him better than most having almost raised him from the moment he had been dedicated as a healer and a druid. He sighed a little and looked back into the fire.  
  
"Change is coming," Quatre said, staring at the embers before blinking and turning away to look at the hall attracted by approaching footfall.  
  
"I do not know about change, but I hear a rumour that Lord Heero is coming."  
  
Catherine stood regarding him, her hands on her hips, tall and pretty. She alone amongst the serving women was not afraid of the druid Quatre. If anything, he was frightened of her. She had a fiery temper to match her glorious waist length red hair, which she kept neat and braided down her back. She was tall; taller than Quatre and she always seemed to take delight in the way Quatre had to tilt his head to stare her in the eye. Her peplos dress hung only to her thighs, on her legs she wore trousers against the cold. Her arms, however, were bare. She was fresh from the kitchens which was hot from the heat of the great fire there devoted to cooking and baking food for the occupants of the hall. In addition, an excellent cook she was too, although she guarded her wares well and had been known to hurl knives at those who unwarily came into her realm to help themselves to food.  
  
"Is it true, druid?" she raised an eyebrow. "What do you see in your fire?"  
  
Quatre smiled, and turned his head to look back to the hearth "I see coals, ash, wood and sparks. And a lot of smoke," Quatre turned back to the serving woman who was glaring.  
  
"Quatre! Be of some use to me and earn the food that I feed to you," she retorted angrily "Should I be preparing food for my Lord? I do not want him turning up on the doorstep and me having nothing to feed him with!"  
  
The talk of food made Quatre realise he was feeling peckish. He turned back to the fire and frowned deeply. "I see Heero returning. Very soon."  
  
Catherine folded her arms looking that him dubiously. He could tell that she didn't really trust him, but nor did she want to disbelief him. "Is that you or your stomach talking?" she asked, eyes narrowed.  
  
Quatre laughed, but before he could reply another woman approached.  
  
"There is a woman with a babe here seeking work." she said to Catherine after nodding respectfully to Quatre.  
  
Catherine made a small tsking noise whilst peering around to the entrance of the hall. Quatre followed her look and saw standing there; a tallish dark haired woman dressed warmly in a heavy cloak holding a well-swaddled child to her chest. He found himself staring at the woman, drawn to her or more especially the child she carried. There was something about the baby that seemed important. As he tried to delve deeper into the auras that surrounded both mother and child Catherine broke his concentration by speaking.  
  
"Well she doesn't look like she is starving, nor does she look like she is a peasant. What of her husband?" she asked the other woman beside her.  
  
"She says that she had been deserted," came the reply.  
  
Quatre felt a smile tug on the corner of his lips as he watched the sympathy that bloomed in Catherine's eyes. She always had a soft spot for mistreated people, befriending and helping those less fortunate than herself.  
  
Catherine sighed. "Poor soul," she breathed "Well, she can have a meal and stay the night. However, I have no work for her- "she broke off as she felt Quatre's hand on her arm  
  
"Keep her," he said.  
  
"But-" Catherine protested, gesturing in the direction of the kitchen her movements obvious; they had enough workers already.  
  
"Employ her," Quatre said again. "Times are changing, soon you will be glad for every hand that you have to aid you," As he spoke he again felt the terrible foreboding wash over him.  
  
Catherine frowned at him, but saw that he was serious. She did not argue; after all a Druid was an exhalted figure almost on level with King and Prince. Finally she nodded and gestured the woman over.  
  
She approached hesitantly, looking from Quatre, to Catherine, to Rashid then back to Quatre. She bowed her head respectfully to Quatre detecting from his robes that he was a druid, and she held her baby close and protectively to her. When she raised her eyes Quatre could see that they were fierce and strong, almost the eyes of a warrior.  
  
"What is your name?" Catherine asked kindly, trying to put the woman at ease.  
  
"Noin," the woman replied, her voice soft. The infant opened its eyes at the voice of its mother and Quatre could see that its eyes were still the blue grey of a newborn child. Noin saw that Quatre was staring at the babe and again held the child close to her, immediately on the defensive.  
  
"And your husband?" Catherine continued, not observing Noin's uneasiness.  
  
Noin blinked and turned to Catherine. "Gone," she whispered.  
  
Catherine nodded her understanding and did not push for more information. "Very well, you may have work here, in return we will give you food and lodgings. Our Lord Heero is-"  
  
"He is here!" came a call, a young boy ran in "Lord Heero is returned!"  
  
Catherine looked quickly to Quatre observing the grin that now adorned his face.  
  
"Hmmm, it seems that you will get our feast after all, Master Druid," she spun around to Noin. "Come!" she said taking hold of her arm. "It seems that you shall be put to work sooner rather than later!"  
*Armies then were small. We are talking about a maximum of 500 men.  
  
tbc 


	12. Chapter 12

OK, a little plug now for a story I am writing together with Iris Anthe and Goldberry called 'The Maids of Silva' We would love to hear what you think of it so far so please have a look if you have the time ^^  
  
Many, many thanks for all your kind reviews for the last chapter ^^ I hope you all enjoy this chapter, please let me know what you think!  
  
Cynehelme  
  
by kmf  
  
Rating: PG13 Warnings: AU Standard Disclaimer applies  
  
Chapter Twelve  
  
Relena had been alerted to her surroundings by Heero's warning breathed in her ear.  
  
"We have arrived."  
  
His voice had been unusually soft, but tired and thin. That he was exhausted was not surprising; he had been denied sleep due to his mission of trying to find her. He could not have slept or rested in over two days and a night. During their mad ride they had only stopped on four occasions in order to rest the horse and ease numbness from their own legs. He had been alert to danger each time they stopped, his hand never moving far from his sword, eyes narrowed and ears alert.  
  
She had been more fortunate. She had been able to rest assured that their safety was in the capable hands of Heero, although her frequent bouts of coughing were becoming more than troublesome; they were becoming painful. So long as she remained upright she was fine, but when Heero insisted that she lie down and sleep during one of their rest, her chest would tighten and she would become short of breath.  
  
Instead, she rested as they rode, her eyes closing although sleep proved evasive. Her mind was busy considering who Dorothy turned out to be; Treize's cousin and ally. Although she had never fully trusted Dorothy, rightfully as it turned out, Relena could not help feel sad at the girl's ulterior motive. All the whispered hints and innuendoes had been a means to an end; to encourage Relena to turn to Trieze when the moment came.  
  
It was disconcerting to feel so used, although the realist in Relena told her that she ought to get used to it. She was, after all, heir to the High King's throne and it would be her fate for people to try and use her to gain what they needed. And that probably included King Odin, Heero and Duo.  
  
Her musings had continued along this vein as they rode forcing her into wakefulness and preventing her from relaxing in Heero's warm embrace as she had done before when he rode with her. He had already confirmed to her that should the King of Mercia wish to wed her, then he would not object. And the grim look on his face she caught as they rode only confirmed to her that he had no regard for her other than that she was a distinct nuisance.  
  
Relena felt great sadness over this. She had no real knowledge of relationships between men and women due to her sheltered upbringing in the nunnery, but she did recognise that she felt something towards the young prince. Fascination, perhaps. Gratitude for rescuing her twice, undoubtedly. The stirrings of love? Was it love that made a strange hotness in her abdomen bloom whenever he touched her? Was it love that made his eyes so compelling and attractive? Was it love that made her want to make all the worries and cares disappear from his face?  
  
Questions such as these flew around her head as they rode, until he bent his head down to hers and breathed the words into her ear.  
  
...we have arrived....  
  
Journeys end had come and Relena opened her eyes to see that they had arrived at what appeared to be a fortress. Standing high on a hill a series of buildings stood defended by a number of earth works. Great ditches had been cut into the hill, encircling it so that the only easy approach was the one they came by. A small wooden bridge spanned the ditch and Relena knew that if the fortress needed to be defended, the bridge would be destroyed.  
  
The earth from the ditch had been piled up high in the past so that it would be difficult for a man in the bottom of the ditch to climb up towards the summit of the hill. After the mound of earth came a tall wooden fence made of posts that ran again around the buildings inside. Staring up at them as they rode Relena estimated that they were at least twice the height of a man and the tops of the posts had been sharpened into points dulled with a heavy coating of snow. A gate opened in this fence, manned by men who called greetings to Heero and looked with curiosity at Relena.  
  
And then they were inside. It was a large holding, central to it was the main house part of which was distinctively roman. The rectangular front was made of stone complete with pillars, that had been cut from limestone and glowed reddish in the setting of the sun. Relena could see that extensions to either side had been made at a later date from rougher hewn stone such as the small Abbey had been made of.  
  
It was an impressive building, wide and tall. Smaller buildings skirted it, looking humble in comparison, In these servants would live, those who helped maintain the fortress and protect it. Snow covered the ground but from the way the horse's hooves were sounding Relena assumed that the courtyard was cobbled.  
  
As they halted in front of the main building a man from the gate who had jogged beside them, ran up the steps to the large wooden front door. Thrusting it open he called in that the Lord had returned. Instantly people appeared from everywhere, braving the wintry dusk to come out and call greetings to Heero. He dismounted slowly, Relena could see that he was worn, tired and sore from the ride. He nodded to the people assuring that the rest of the war band was safe and well.  
  
"We need a healer." he said "Is the Druid here?"  
  
A shout went up for the healer to come, while Heero again was bombarded with questions. He held his hands up for people to wait and Relena felt frustration at them; could they not see that Heero was almost dead on his feet? One woman pointed to Relena and asked  
  
"Is that her?" amazement tingeing her voice.  
  
Relena huddled deeper in her cloak as many eyes turned up towards her as she sat on the tired horse. Vanity might be a sin, but at that point she wished more than anything that she did not look like a bedraggled beggar. She blushed, lowering her eyes knowing that however regal she looked in the future they would always remember their first sight of her.  
  
The people parted as a man emerged from the front door, his cream cloak pulled around him, a twisted polished stick of willow in his hand as a staff. His dress was different from that of the others; he wore no colours and no woven band edged the bottom of his tunic. His face was clean shaven and youthful, his hair was shorter than the long tied back fashion the other men wore, and was a bright blond colour. His eyes sparkled blue and were wide with an odd mixture of knowledge and innocence. He smiled at Heero and embraced him welcoming him home.  
  
Heero embraced the man in return, slapping his back. When they separated Relena was surprised to see a rare grin brighten Heero's face. It was obvious that these two were close; a cousin maybe or maybe an advisor? Relena pondered until another cough seized her making her huddle over in pain.  
  
When she straightened she saw that she was now once again the centre of attention. The blond man was watching her with kind and concerned eyes, whilst Heero had come near and had raised his hands to help her down off the horses back. She accepted the help and did not resist when Heero continued to hold her when her feet hit the ground. She felt hot and cold at the same time and muzzy with it. She was certain that if he did not offer his support that she would land in an even more undignified heap on the ground.  
  
Heero gestured to the blond man "This is Druid Quatre Winner," he said before introducing her "Relena Peacecraft, heir to the High Kings throne."  
  
A murmur went up amongst the men and women gathered in the snowy courtyard and Relena could well understand their disbelief. She certainly looked like no princess she had ever imagined, and these people were familiar with royalty being in the household of the Prince of Mercia.  
  
However, she tried to retain some dignity and nodded to the young man before her, considering him again. She had, of course, heard of Druids. They were an old fading power, once strong when Britain was a pagan country. Relena had learned in the nunnery that when her father had turned to Christianity at the prompting of his new wife, many people followed his lead including some of the lesser Kings. That was how the Abbey had come into existence; at the behest of the old Queen. Mercia was not one of those to be so easily led, however, and had retained its old gods and teachings. And here before her was one of its priests.  
  
She looked at Quatre with unbridled curiosity. She had heard tales that druids were fierce unkempt men and women indulging in human sacrifice and the worship of trees. Quatre, however, did not look like he would hurt anyone, much less put a person to death in the name of some unnameable god. She blushed as she realised that he was looking at her with as much, if not more, interest.  
  
Then suddenly his eyes had a faraway look to them and she had to resist the urge to look over her shoulder to see if someone was standing close behind her that he was focused on. Then he blinked and was looking once more at her.  
  
"You are the bringer of peace," he said with both certainty and wonder in his voice.  
  
Heero had gripped Relena's arm tighter in the exchange. "To have peace, first you must have war," he said ominously, his voice harsh in the cold air.  
  
Relena could not help herself. Again she coughed, this time her legs feeling weak and shaky with each spasm that rocked her. When she had caught her breath she realised that Heero had encircled her with his arms and was nearly supporting all her weight. She tried to murmur an apology, but Quatre spoke first.  
  
"Bring her inside, the cold does her more ill than good," he said turning and quickly climbing the snowy steps.  
  
Relena made to follow but found Heero would not let her walk. Instead, he gathered her up in his arms slowly following Quatre. He was so fatigued that carrying her was an obvious effort. But as she made to protest he cut her off with a glare that so obviously said 'Be quiet'.  
  
The room they entered through the main door was large and impressive and obviously part of the original roman villa that once had stood on this spot. The floor was covered in rush covered flagstones and Relena felt disappointment that there were no mosaics left as she had heard a lot about their wondrous beauty. The walls were smooth and painted with limestone wash so that they glowed in the light of the candles that illuminated the hall. The candles themselves were a display of wealth, made from wonderfully scented but expensive beeswax. Not one smoky rushlight was used to bring light to this hall.  
  
Along the edges of the hall were long tables and benches that were probably used in times of feasting. At one end a large fire blazed in a stone hearth, vented by a large stone chimney. This was no cooking fire, no irons or hooks graced it. This was purely for decoration and warmth; another sign of wealth.  
  
Relena absently wondered where the kitchens were as Heero walked steadily towards the fire. A woman rushed up with a low three-legged stool that she placed close to the fire and upon this Heero deposited her. Relena could not suppress the sigh of contentment that escaped her lips as the warmth of the fire started to warm her through.  
  
Heero also had a small smile on his lips as he took his gloves off and held his hands out to the warming blaze. Another woman appeared and handed both Relena and Heero wood lined copper tankards filled with what appeared to be mulled mead. Relena sipped the hot liquid gratefully and sighed again as the heavily spiced mixture hit her palate. She could detect rare cinnamon in the mix, and instantly a long forgotten memory of sitting in front of a fire such as this as a child with her brother came back to her.  
  
Quatre crouched beside her watching her closely, but by now Relena was too contended beside the fire to really care. When she started to cough again he kindly rescued the cup from her hands before she could spill any of the hot liquid over herself. Looking up at him she smiled between coughs.  
  
"Thank you," she managed to say once her breathing returned to normal.  
  
"Perhaps," Quatre said, turning to hand the tankard to a large burley man with a startling beard who stood close by, "Perhaps it would be best to have a look at you before you do anything else."  
  
Relena looked sideways at Heero, who was leaning against the large fire surround, his legs crossed and his eyes closed but his drink perfectly balanced in his hand. He nodded without opening his eyes and Relena felt sudden annoyance as if by looking at him she had sought his permission. He most certainly did not own her. She looked down at her feet feeling cold realisation flood through her.  
  
Yet.  
  
Soon she might be forced to wed him or his father and then, of course, she would be a possession.  
  
Deciding to exert her independence whilst she could she looked back at the druid and shook her head. "I am fine. All I need is to sleep a little," she said quietly.  
  
Movement beside her betrayed that Heero had moved from his relaxed position beside the fire and was standing glaring at her.  
  
"See to her Quatre," he said firmly with authority all tiredness suddenly disappearing from him.  
  
Quatre looked at Relena apologetically "My Lord commands," he said, crouching before her and reaching a hand out to take her cloak from her.  
  
Relena bristled and held the cloak closer "He is not my Lord," she said glaring back at Heero and standing up. Unfortunately the effect of wronged maiden was ruined by dizziness and another coughing fit overtaking her.  
  
Quatre was the one to support her this time, whilst Heero looked on in irritation.  
  
"Forgive me," Quatre said, his eyes honest and concerned. "But I have to insist, my lady. You are obviously not well from your travels and it would upset me to see you fall any deeper into this illness because of my failure to treat you."  
  
Relena could not help but feel calmed by Quatre's wide blue empathic eyes. She nodded her agreement and allowed the cloak to slip away from her small frame. Quatre helped her sit back down on her stool before running his long cool fingers over her scalp feeling the bump inflicted by Dorothy's blow. She winced a little as he probed a tender spot, for which he gave his apologies before running his fingers down her neck and around the bottom of her jaw. He looked deeply into her eyes as he did this, his face so close she could feel his breath on her face.  
  
She blushed at the apparent intimacy of his touch, whilst he smiled encouragingly at her.  
  
"Apologies again, Lady," he said drawing back a little. "Your head wound looks worse than it is, all cuts to the head bleed well and this should need no stitches."  
  
Relena was glad of this. She had helped in the infirmary at the abbey on occasions and had seen lengths of horsehair sewn with small bone needles into the flesh of men and had no desire to experience it for herself.  
  
Quatre watched her breath a little. "You breath is shallow. Does it hurt to take a full lung of air?"  
  
Relena shook her head. "It makes me cough, and coughing hurts," she lowered her eyes ".a little."  
  
Quatre walked around her and she twisted to follow him. Smiling he indicated that she should look forward again and she did as she was instructed staring into the cold face of Heero. He stood still, sipping his drink, but never taking his eyes from her. She glared back, or did until she felt Quatre press his head against her back.  
  
Her eyes went wide with surprise, and so stunned was she that she sat still forgetting even to breathe.  
  
Quatre chuckled a little. "My lady, I wish to hear the air in your lungs. For that you must remember to inhale."  
  
Relena did so in a rush, so disconcerted she was that this strange young Druid should be pressing his body to hers. Of course, she breathed too deeply and was soon reduced to another coughing fit. Quatre lifted his head from her back and instead started to rub it. Relena blushed at his touch, reminded that Zechs Marquis had done the very same thing not yet a day ago.  
  
"Druid?" Heero asked softly, his eyes narrowed.  
  
Relena looked up at him as he spoke and saw that his eyes were narrowed and his hand clasped firmly around the handle of his tankard. The word may have been spoken as a question asking what the matter was with her, but it sounded more like a warning. Instantly Quatre removed his hand from her back.  
  
"She is suffering from ill humours to the lungs," he said. "Scented steam will help. I have some oil of juniper berry that should be added to the steamed water."  
  
"Juniper berry?" Relena repeated, unfamiliar with the fruit.  
  
"A herb from the Byzantium," Quatre explained.  
  
Heero nodded and rolled his shoulders to ease the ache that plagued him. "A bath then," he nodded at the serving woman who stood still near by. "Light the furnace to the bath house," he instructed "Provide clean clothes and prepare a bed for her with the women."  
  
The serving woman nodded, her red plait falling over her shoulder to be tossed back with a flick of her hand. She hesitated then asked. "Lord Heero, I hear that the rest of the warband will be here soon. Is that so?"  
  
Relena watched Heero nod solemnly before saying, "But your brother is not amongst them. He took one of the Lady's companions back to the abbey. He follows after."  
  
The serving woman stood still, frozen to the spot until the words 'he follows' filtered through to her. Then she nodded and swiftly moved off to do as Heero commanded. Relena followed her progress to a small door in the side of the hall through which she disappeared presumably to the kitchens.  
  
So she was the sister of the man who went with Sister Sally. Relena tried to recall what he had looked like; wasn't he the one who had guarded all three of them that first night. She frowned perplexed that she could not recall. Certainly if she was going to prove herself to be a capable in her new role in life, be it Queen or wife to a King, then she needed to start at least remembering names and faces.  
  
"What was her name?" she asked.  
  
Heero followed her gaze to the door that the woman had just disappear through.  
  
"Catherine," he answered without questioning why she wanted to know. "Sister of Trowa."  
  
Trowa.  
  
That was the elusive man's name. Trowa, brother of Catherine, protector of Sally.  
  
"Trowa ought to have caught up by now," Relena stated looking up at Heero who seemed to be showing his tiredness again.  
  
"Aye," Heero nodded answering before he pondered his words. He looked down at Relena, then looked away. "In all probability he has been killed or taken by Treize."  
  
"...Sally?" Relena murmured.  
  
Heero looked into his cup as if he had found something distasteful within it. "She has little value as a hostage," he answered before looking at her. "I told you before. Those slavers' deaths were just the beginning. What lies before us is war."  
  
* * * *   
  
Sally was getting very tired of being a prisoner of Treize Kushrinada and wished above all other things that she had never left young Relena's side. If she had not, she would not be in this predicament now, nor would she have the fate of the warrior Trowa upon her soul.  
  
After Trieze had finished using her as a holder of pen and ink, her had dismissed her with a wave of his hand. He had then stood to watch his men construct a shelter that would be suitable for their needs over the next few days until the troops he had sent for arrived. Sally disliked his arrogance and his apparent vanity, although his men seemed to be spurred on by his languid ways.  
  
Sally noted with interest that the Shamen Une was not fairing so well in her Lord's opinion of late, nor could Sally miss the way in which she reacted. Une seemed to desperately need Treize's good opinion and she sank deep into a melancholy without it, causing Sally to almost feel sorry for her. Trieze, Sally was sure, had noted his Shamen's reaction but did nothing to ease the woman's feelings. This made Sally like him even less.  
  
Even now the Shamen sat huddled next to Trowa having brought him water to drink. Sally was irritated with herself for not thinking of the man's needs; she herself had been thirsty so of course Trowa would have been too. Then again, Sally could not easily get by Trowa's guard without gaining unwanted attention from them.  
  
She had seen the look that they gave her before, in her mother's whorehouse. Men would wander by, their eyes hot and lusty looking at the women who displayed themselves on the benches outside the front of the building. The guards wore the same looks whenever their eyes chanced upon her. Sally knew that her oath of chastity was no protection should these men decide to take her. She also doubted whether Treize would stop their attack.  
  
Wufei, however, would be sure to. Of this Sally was certain. He had been protective of her ever since he took her captive in the woods. He had been affected by her protecting Trowa from his sword and had treated her with an indifferent sort of respect ever since. However, would he protect her if Treize gave her to his men? His devotion to his Lord was plain for anyone to see and Sally truly believed that if Treize decided that his men could have her, then Wufei would not protest.  
  
Sally looked once more towards Trowa and found that he was staring directly at her, his green eye intent. She frowned a little and looked away uncomfortable with his stare. When she once again glanced towards him she found he was still staring at her intently as if he wanted to convey something to her.  
  
Puzzled, she moved slightly towards him and was rewarded with an approving look from him. Did he want her to come to him? Deciding that he did indeed want something, she braced herself for the intimidating looks from the guards and walked to him. Wufei stopped her progress, a hand on her arm.  
  
"Where are you going, woman?" he demanded.  
  
Sally was still looking at Trowa and saw a look of frustration pass briefly over his face, before it lapsed into the usual blank mask. She turned to Wufei and looked down at his hand before staring at him, her eyebrow raised. He understood her meaning and removed his hand from her.  
  
"I wish to pray," she said "I wish to pray for all the poor innocent souls who will be killed because of your master's greed for power."  
  
Wufei scowled and looked away before muttering, "Be quick about your pious mutterings and do not go further than my line of sight."  
  
Sally's eyes narrowed at his words and she muttered a fervent prayer for God to grant her patience when dealing with ignorant savages. She was rewarded by seeing Wufei's fists clench in anger and felt much better. Turning away she made her way over to Trowa ignoring the leers of his guards.  
  
Une did not look up at her approach, but remained kneeling on the cold ground her hands loosely holding onto the now empty cup, her eyes focussed on it as if she could by will alone refill it. Trowa did look up at Sally, a warning in his eyes. Before Sally could ask what he wanted, he suddenly moved.  
  
He lunged towards Une, his hands that had been tied behind his back free of their bindings. Time went slow for Sally as she watched him move, and she saw with perfect clarity the marks the rope had made as he had pulled against his bindings. Une's head raised as he flew towards her, and her eyes widened slightly. But she did nothing to protect herself.  
  
One of Trowa's outstretched hands grasped hold of Une by the neck, pulling her to him. The other grabbed the cup from her hand and dashed it to the ground where it broke into several large pieces. He stood, pulling the woman with him and held a sharp fragment of cup to Une's neck.  
  
"Get behind me!" he hissed to Sally, who complied with haste.  
  
The guards had pulled forth their swords and held them out unsure as what to do.  
  
"Stay back!" Trowa said calmly pressing the pointed edge of the pottery into the Shamen's neck so that it made a dimple in her flesh.  
  
He had all the camp's attention by now. Wufei was advancing at speed, his sword drawn his face intent on Trowa.  
  
"Stop!" Treize held up a hand, his voice quiet.  
  
Wufei stopped immediately, his eyes not leaving Trowa, his face pulled into an almost feral grimace.  
  
Treize watched Trowa closely, his face apparently calm. Sally was impressed at his control, especially when she could see how tense he was by the way his hands were clenched. He gestured to his men to move away from Trowa and his hostage and all complied except Wufei.  
  
"Two horses," Trowa demanded. No one moved. His eyes narrowed and he pressed the pottery shard further into the Shamen's neck, "Now!"  
  
Treize waited a moment longer looking at Une as if he expected her to suddenly work herself free of the situation she was in. Sally felt her hands perspire at the thought of what would happen if horses were refused and wiped her hands nervously down her robes. Then Treize nodded and two horses were led forward.  
  
"Sally, take the reins," Trowa instructed.  
  
Sally's eyes widened at this and she hesitated before moving forward to claim the leather reins from the warrior who held them. She led the two horses back to Trowa ignoring the scowling look Wufei was giving her. His disapproval at her defiance surprised her. If he was in her situation wouldn't he then seek a means to escape? She looked nervously at the small trail of blood that now oozed down the Shamens neck and winced. Sally gave a fervent prayer hoping that their escape bid wouldn't finish with any deaths.  
  
"Now, free the rest of the horses and scare them off," Trowa instructed.  
  
Treize did not hesitate this time and nodded immediately silently instructing his men to comply.  
  
"My Lord!" Wufei protested, his grip tightening on his sword until his knuckles shone white.  
  
Treize ignored him, instead addressed Trowa "Leave my Shamen here," he said frowning.  
  
Sally clambered up on to the back of one of the horses, her tunic hitched high up her legs. They would be riding hard to get away from Treize as quickly as possible; now was the time for speed not modesty. Trowa ignored Treize, instead he too swiftly climbed up onto his horse, holding on to Une's arm and dragging her up in front of him. His movements were so quick and exact that there was little time for Treize to try and rescue Une even if that was his intention.  
  
"She is my hostage," Trowa said "Don't follow. If you do, I will kill her."  
  
Une made no protest as the pottery shard was once again pressed into her neck, her eyes looked dull and lifeless as if she had no will left in her to fight or to live. Trowa nodded to Sally, then urged his horse to move swiftly away. Sally followed with a single backward glance at the newly made camp. She saw Wufei standing stiff and angry, before she turned her face to the front and urged her horse to move faster.  
  
They were free!  
TBC 


	13. Chapter 13

Many, many thanks for all the wonderful reviews:  
  
Pink Sakura - LOL, yes I cant take it too easy on them ^^, Nim, dracoinfinity, Feyla, Demeter - it took a while to get Quatre into it even though he is playing a major role. I'm delighted by your reaction to him ^^, GoldenRat - hmmmm if I told you I would be giving away the plot ^_~, PriestessKali, sweetangel, Ladybug, apol, May - yes I feel sorry for Une too, but Im afraid I can neither confirm or deny what is going to happen to Relena ^^, Ashiro Shingami - the plot is all set out so Im afraid I wont be able to fit in a love triangle with Quatre.maybe next fic ^_~, Water Lily, KaT aka Mistress Shinigami, Snoopy6458 - yup it is all set in Britain. I have researched the boundaries quite carefully and historically its accurate that each county had a King ruled over by a High King who was originally in Kent and then later in Mercia. This is set in post Roman Britain and the Romans never conquered Wales or Scotland, Sage, LSR-7, amy, Tao Shui, :D - post faster??Oh my poor tired fingers.I will try ^_~, Jewls and Mama-sama.  
  
Hope you enjoy this one as much ^^  
Cynehelme  
  
by kmf  
  
Rating: PG13 Warning: AU Standard Disclaimer applies  
  
Chapter 13  
  
Relena allowed herself to be led away from the hall by the serving woman Catherine. Neither of them spoke as they walked, but Relena did not feel uncomfortable in the silence. She used the quiet to look about herself and accustom herself to the strange new halls she found herself in.  
  
They abbey had been a wealthy one, and its inhabitants had lacked for nothing. Yet, compared to this villa, the abbey was a hovel. The villa, though much expanded and modified, retained much of its original graceful architecture. Once out of the main hall, the rushes had been replaced by large tiles glazed in subtle browns, blues and greens laid out in geometric patterns. The walls were painted with little scenes of rural life and though well faded from time, Relena still could discern easily the faces of the people depicted glowing warm nut brown from days spent in the summer sun.  
  
Beyond the bright hall lay a newer section of the dwelling, the walls were finished in white plaster as the older section was, but this was not graced with any vista. Stopping before one door Catherine gestured.  
  
"Here is where you will sleep. This is where the unmarried women reside," she said, opening the door slightly to allow Relena to see.  
  
The room was graced with a fireplace which was something to truly be thankful for when the weather was as cold as it was now. A number of pallets were pilled up in one corner and Relena knew that at night they would be placed on the floor and the women would all sleep collectively; there would be no isolated cells for her.  
  
She stood still as she realised that never again would she sleep alone. First she would be with the maidens and widows and then when she wed she would sleep in her husband's chamber, whoever that would be. Turning, she caught Catherine by the arm as she walked on.  
  
"What is King Odin like?" she asked, unable to keep the slight desperation creeping into her voice.  
  
Catherine looked at her in sympathy and patted the hand that held her. "He is a good King," she said "Strong and handsome," she wrinkled her nose "Fair and generous." She turned away "Come, the druid has instructed that you bathe as soon as possible so that the steam may benefit your lungs."  
  
Relena wanted to know more about Odin, but found instead that she was rushing after Catherine. "But I want to know more-"  
  
Catherine shook her head. "You will learn soon enough. Heero is sure to send for the King now that the Druid has advised you ought not to travel any further. He and his troops will soon be here."  
  
"Troops?" Relena frowned  
  
Catherine nodded as they neared the end of the corridor. "There are rumours about Lindsey sending men to take you for themselves. The King will wish to protect what is his."  
  
Relena's frown deepened "I am not his," she murmured.  
  
Catherine, detecting the tone in her voice turned and looked at her in sympathy. "My dear, you are heir to the High King's throne. Therefore you will be coveted for that status. You will belong to the strongest," she sighed "We can only hope that it is Mercia, I have no wish to be ruled over by a King Slayer," She blinked suddenly realising that she was referring to the death of Relena's father, and patted the girls back sympathetically. "All will be well, you will see."  
  
She opened the door and cold air blew in, Relena looked through and saw that they had reached the boundary of the building. The cold air caught in her throat and she started to cough. Catherine pointed to a small square building nearby that had a large chimney issuing forth smoke.  
  
"That is the bath house," she said. "Are you alright to walk across quickly?"  
  
Relena nodded and found her hand being taken by the older woman. She pulled her out and helped keep her balance as Relena stumbled across the icy ground. Catherine pushed open the small wooden door and they both entered the building quickly, Catherine shoving the door closed behind her quickly.  
  
The heat of the room assailed Relena's senses and for a moment she felt it difficult to breathe. Then as she acclimatised herself to the unnatural warmth, she looked around in curiosity. The floor was decorated in the most wonderful design of tiles that Relena had ever seen. Tiny chips of tile had been artfully arranged to show intertwining lengths of colours; blue, green, gold and white. It reminded Relena so much of the beautiful pages of the book of psalms back in the abbey that she wanted to cry.  
  
Catherine, seeing her young charge's gaze transfixed, smiled.  
  
"It is called a mosaic and was done by the Romans who once lived here," she said "Its a wondrous thing and shows the Gods and Goddesses that they once worshipped."  
  
Relena looked further into the room and saw that indeed she had only espied the complicated border of the design. Further in there were depicted reclining men and women, taking their ease on low couches being attended on by scantily dressed servants. Relena blushed as she saw that some of the men and women shown were completely nude and posed embracing each other.  
  
Catherine, who was removing layers of her clothing, laughed a little as she saw the girl blush. "Is it true that nuns never know the touch of a man?" she asked curiosity flavouring her voice. When Relena nodded, averting her gaze from the amorous pictures Catherine smiled. "Your God is a jealous one then," she stated.  
  
Relena looked towards her, about to defend her belief, when she saw that Catherine was only wearing a short shift that left her arms and legs bare. She blushed and looked away.  
  
Catherine chuckled. "Oh my!" she teased "Aren't you the innocent one!" she came forward and removed the cloak from Relena's shoulders, inspecting her clothes curiosity evident in her eyes. When she attempted to lift Relena's habit over her head, Relena pulled away again, blushing and wrapping her arms around herself. "My dear, I have to bath you, something you need to be sure," Catherine wrinkled her nose, "And to do that I have to remove your clothes."  
  
"All of them?" Relena asked, her eyebrows raised.  
  
Catherine's hands were placed on her hips. "Have you never bathed before?" she pointed behind Relena.  
  
She turned and saw further into the room was a circular pool of water, some twelve feet in diameter. Sunken into the water at the edge was a narrow ledge, wide enough to sit on. In the middle a marble column rose, its top level as if something ought to sit upon it. The water steamed and Relena frowned wondering how so much water could have been heated and placed in the pool.  
  
She shook her head "Not in something like that," she said, her voice nervous. She turned back to the serving woman. "Washing too much is frowned upon. It shows that you have too much vanity. Indeed, some of the nuns never allow water to touch their faces - there is one who swore that she had not washed since she was baptised as she did not want the blessing of God to be removed from her skin."*  
  
Catherine's nose wrinkled and she shuddered lightly.  
  
"I have been reprimanded for my own habit of washing my hair and face too often," Relena looked back at the pool "But I have never been immersed in water. I have never taken my clothes off all at once!"  
  
Catherine's face became stern. "Quatre has ordered that you bathe, so bathe you will. Even if I have to cut the clothes from your back!" she said, "Besides, those need to be replaced, they are more than filthy"  
  
She stood arms crossed and frowning. Relena looked about herself wondering if there was any way to escape. When she determined there was only one door in and out, she bent her head admitting her acceptance of what was demanded of her. She removed her sandals first and looked up at Catherine in surprise. The floor was warm and wonderfully soothing under her feet. Catherine grinned at her surprise and gestured for her to continue, whilst she pulled forth lengths of cloth and little jars and vials.  
  
When Relena finished disrobing, she held her arms around her naked body and looked down to her feet in her embarrassment unable to look at Catherine. She wriggled her toes as she coughed and noted how dirty they were in comparison with Catherine's long white feet. She felt hands on her shoulders as Catherine directed her further into the room, kicking the clothes aside as she went. A marble bench was placed at one side of the room and upon that Relena was directed to sit.  
  
Again, she expected to wince from the coldness of the stone, but the room was so wonderfully hot that the stone had absorbed the heat and was comfortable. Catherine used a little wooden pail to collect water from the pool and gently tipped it over Relena's head.  
  
Relena gasped in surprise. It was surprisingly hot. Catherine chuckled again as she worked on wetting Relena completely "The pool is fed by a natural spring that lies nearby," She pointed at a pipe from which a little trickle of water spilled into the pool. "There is a furnace at the back of the building. When that is stoked well, this whole room becomes hot, including the pool and the water contained within it. The pool itself empties by another pipe which allows the water to refresh itself so that it is always clean."  
  
She had finished wetting Relena by now, and was beginning to rub scented oils into her skin and hair. Relena closed her eyes, blushing to the tips of her ears in her embarrassment, but had to admit that the process was extremely soothing and the scent of the oils made her breathing a lot less laboured.  
  
When Catherine had finished rubbing the oils into Relena's skin, she produced a rectangular sliver of wood and began to use it to scrape the dirt and oils from Relena's body. It was a little uncomfortable to one who was not used to such thorough cleansing, and soon Relena felt her skin glow with an uncomfortable redness. Catherine ignored her protests though, making comments on the amount of grime she was able to remove. Relena, noting that Catherine would not stop until she was finished, bit her lip and endured.  
  
Finally when the process was over Catherine tipped another lot of water over her charge, rinsing the oils from her hair. Then, satisfied, she stood back and smiled.  
  
"Now soak in the water!" she pointed at the pool and Relena scrambled to obey. The pool was surprisingly deep and as she settled herself on the submerged marble ledge she found that only the tops of her shoulders remained out of the water. Her hair floated out around her drifting in the little eddies that the fresh spring water entering the pool caused.  
  
"Its so large!" she murmured dreamily as the heat of the water soaked into her very bones making her feel languid and relaxed "Too big for one person."  
  
Catherine snorted "Of course its too large for one person; its a communal bath."  
  
"Oh!" Relena uttered in surprise, her eyes drifting to the mosaics on the floor once more. "Oh!" her eyes widened as she focused on the men entwined with women, embracing and kissing. She sat up straight "Oh!"  
  
She stood up in a panic and nearly slipped on the marble lined bottom of the pool. Catherine clucked, grabbing her arm as she lost her balanced, then firmly pushed her back into the water  
  
"The Druid said that you must stay in for a good long while, and you will do as you are told," Catherine's eyes twinkled "Besides, no-one else will want to bathe today," She turned her gaze to the door "Except, maybe, Lord Heero."  
  
"Oh!" Relena exclaimed again, holding her arms around herself in her distress. She had found it difficult enough to cope with exposing her body to another female, the thought that she might be displayed in front of Heero made her tremble in modest fright.  
  
Catherine laughed a little, holding her hand across her mouth in her mirth. "I am joking, Heero will not be entering here whilst you are still a maiden," Her grin widened as Relena sank further into the water in her relief. "But be assured, this bath is most assuredly designed with more than one in mind," She bent down and pulled on her own dress, before picking up the discarded habit. Holding it out at arms length, her nose wrinkled in disgust. "Rest here a while. I will go and fetch you new robes."  
  
Relena, lifting her face clear of the water looked worried "But-" she started to protest.  
  
"You will not be disturbed until my return. I promise you," Catherine smiled kindly, laughing softly as she went.  
  
Relena, again immersed in the comforting warmth of the pool was left wondering whether or not she was disappointed in the fact that Heero would not be joining her.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Zechs Marquis walked his horse slowly over the snowy landscape, it deserved a rest after the mad dash he had subjected it to. He patted its neck encouragingly enjoying the feel of another live being under his skin. They had travelled hard and fast to deliver Noin and the babe to the safety of Yuy's stronghold before Yuy himself had arrived. They had paused for neither food nor rest, and Noin had bravely suffered the hardship nursing the babe as they moved.  
  
He was surprised to find that he already missed his wife. He sighed a little, giving the horse another pat as they moved along. Zechs had been very lucky in the wife that had been chosen for him, for his was a political marriage and not a marriage of love. From the moment he had met Noin he had liked her, but had expected nothing more of the relationship.  
  
Noin, however, had been quite obviously smitten by him from the moment she had seen him. She had stumbled over words, and her eyes had visibly dilated when he had run his hand through his hair. It had been very flattering to be the object of his betrothed's desire, but he had not expected to reciprocate the feeling.  
  
However, as time had passed Zechs had found himself more and more drawn to the woman, liking the way that she supported all that he endeavoured to do. He was suitably proud when she conceived their child, it gave him additional status and showed that he was indeed a man in every sense of the word. Love had not really entered into it until his father had been killed and their lives had been at threat. It was then that Noin had bloomed in his eyes. She had become strong and determined, able to cope with the hardships they had to endure. She still remained devoted to him despite his loss of status. And she created and brought forth a perfect male child to continue his line. For all this, he loved her.  
  
It had been Noin's idea to stop Lindsey by getting rid of the source of the problem; Kushrinada. But whilst Zechs had agreed, he knew that it would not be as simple as that. Treize had followers who were more than willing to step forward and continue on if he was lost, Dorothy Catalonia was a prime example. Zechs and Noin had made an agreement, he would take her to Yuy's stronghold, a place which he knew she and his child would be safe and where he was sure Yuy would take Relena. And Zechs would track down the Lindsey warband and assassinate Treize Kushrinada. Once that task was done, Zechs would return to Noin and reclaim her and the High King's throne.  
  
But Zechs had lied to Noin about this. He would not kill Treize Kushrinada, that would not bring an end to all the wars and fighting. That would not bring peace to the land. The answer was that instead of getting rid of the source of the aggression, he should get rid of the object of the aggression.  
  
Not Relena. No, he couldn't harm the girl that looked so much like his mother it made his throat hurt with long suppressed memories of her gentle kindness. He would keep Relena safe. But if there was no longer an inheritance for her to claim, if there was no longer a High King's throne then there would be nothing to battle over. If he could incite the other Kings to hold a war so fierce that it destroyed Mercia and forever turned their hearts away from battle, then Relena would be safe. Noin would be safe. His child would be safe.  
  
Zechs narrowed his eyes. He turned his head to regard his horse again and saw that it was no longer sweating. Climbing up in the saddle, he looked once more back in the direction to where the three people he cared about were, before turning away and using his heals to urge it into a gallop.  
  
He would protect them.  
  
* * * *  
  
Heero flexed his shoulder muscles trying to work out a cramp that was forming. His back hurt, his arms hurt, his thighs hurt. He grimaced, doubting that there was a muscle in his body that didn't hurt like hell at the moment. He had sat patiently listening to his advisors hurriedly tell him of the current situation all the while trying to ignore the protests of his body. Then it had been his turn to tell the story of how he had gained, then lost, then regained the Peacecraft heir.  
  
Of course, this revelation had led to yet more discussion on the impending threat of war. Heero tried to be attentive, but his mind kept wandering to the wonderful bath that he knew was prepared and waiting. Frowning, he tried to chase the thought of seeking blessed oblivion in hot water. Instead, he sat straight ignoring the protests of his spine as he did so, and concentrated on what was being said.  
  
"I have heard of Dorothy Catalonia," Quatre was saying, his hand gripping his staff tightly and his expression thoughtful. "I have heard say that she is fiercely protective of her family. I have no doubt that she was not taking the Lady Relena for herself, but rather to return her to Kushrinada."  
  
"But if she was acting on her own," another older man whose name escaped Heero for a moment - was it Parth? "Would that not remove the perceived threat of war?"  
  
"That is wishful thinking," Heero shook his head "We will be at war with Lindsey soon enough. Treize wishes to be High King. He will try and get the Peacecraft heir to ratify his position."  
  
Quatre nodded in agreement "He needs to claim her, or to kill her, to make his position a safe one."  
  
Heero frowned. Of course, that was a possibility. And if Treize did gain possession of her, then Heero would be the one considering her assassination. He brought a finger to his brow, rubbing the headache that had begun to make itself known and caught Quatre's look of empathy. He sat straighter, crossing his arms and glared at his advisors.  
  
"Send a message at once to the King. Let him know that Relena Peacecraft is safe within this holding, but that warriors are needed against a possible invasion," his frown deepened "Request his instruction on what to do with her."  
  
He stood up, grimacing a little as the muscles in his back protested once again. His men stood too, nodding their agreement for the actions he was taking. Their voices low and full of concern that there should be the possibility of war when winter still had hold of the land.  
  
"Double the guards and let me know if the warband returns tonight," Heero gave his final instruction casually as he walked out of the hall.  
  
He headed to the back of the building with a purposeful stride. He had not yet eaten since his arrival, but the aches demanded they be soothed before his stomach was sated. To that end, he headed towards the bath. Passing through the corridors, he spared a glance at the door that lead to where Relena would now be sleeping. His stride slowed as he imagined her lying beneath blankets, safe and warm, and wondered if her cough had eased.  
  
Stopping, he placed a hand against the door and almost opened it, his heart beat racing a little as he imagined her lying amidst rumpled bedclothes, her hair loose and tangled around her shoulders. But then the image of his father came to his mind, his eyes stern and disapproving. It was not right that he should covet what was most likely to be his father's wife. Heero lowered his hand slowly, his fingertips trailing against the wood. Eyes narrowing with determination, he turned from the door hoping that the steam of the bath would drive the image of a sleeping, blanket-shrouded Relena from his mind.  
  
Exiting the main residence, he moved quickly across the courtyard to the bath house noting as he went that smoke still issued from the rear of the building. His mouth pulled into a small smile satisfied that the water would be hot enough to soothe even the massive aches he endured.  
  
Pushing on the door he entered quickly amidst billowing steam as the hot air of the room met the cold frigid air of the outside. Closing the door, he blinked a couple of times to adjust his eyes to the steamy interior, then walked in kicking his sandals off as he went. Usually he would be assisted in his ablutions by Catherine whose talented fingers were well adept to soothing out the meanest kink from his muscles. But today she had been assigned to looking after Relena's needs and so he would have to see to himself.  
  
Pulling his tunic over his head, he carelessly tossed it to one side. The lengths of leather that bound his calves were next to be removed, before he started to loosen the leather thongs that held his breeches up. As he started to pull the thong loose he happened to glance towards the water and he froze.  
  
Relena lay half in and half out of the water, her upper body twisted so that her head was pillowed on her arms which rested on the edge of the bath. Her hair fell about her head damp with steam, the ends drifting in the water. Her body was obscured by her position although Heero could see the curve of her back leading down to her gently rounded hip. She was asleep and completely oblivious to his observation of her.  
  
Heero slowly moved back a pace, retying his breeches as he moved his gaze still claimed by the sleeping woman in the water. He wondered whether he ought to wake her, his heartbeat racing a little as he imagined her startled and disorientated sitting upright and revealing her hidden body to him. His hands began to feel sweaty as he fumbled with the knots and he had to reluctantly remove his eyes from her and pay attention to the task at hand.  
  
The door opening again made Heero almost jump an odd feeling of guilt flooding him making him scowl with irritation. Catherine entered the room, in her hands a set of clothes. She saw him straight away and raised an eyebrow before grinning broadly. He glared back not wishing to speak least he wake Relena and frighten her.  
  
Looking past Heero, Catherine smiled again as she saw that Relena was asleep. Moving towards the girl she placed the clothes down and took up a length of linen. "Do you wish to bathe now?" she asked "You could lift her from the water for me rather than waking her. You wouldn't mind doing that, would you?"  
  
The thought of actually holding a wet naked Relena to his chest made Heero's breath catch in his throat. He could almost feel her hot skin against his, her damp hair trailing down his arm, her scent warm and spicy from the oils she had been rubbed in. He swallowed, then took a deep lung full of air as he realised he had stopped breathing. Turning, he strode out of the room hearing Catherine's amused laughter chase after him.  
  
It was only when the cold air hit him as the door to the bath house closed behind him, that he realised that he was still nearly naked.  
  
tbc  
*true account! Amongst early Christians, cleanliness was a sign of vanity and was frowned upon. 


	14. Chapter 14

Cynehelme by kmf  
  
Rating: PG13 Warning: AU Standard Disclaimer applies!  
Chapter Fourteen  
Heero saw nothing of Relena the next morning; her cough had worsened during the night and she had been isolated in the women's room, attended by Catherine. Heero had felt relieved on two counts; firstly he did not think he could look at the girl without seeing her once again relaxed in the bath house and secondly Trowa had not yet returned and he did not have to face his sister's questioning eyes.  
  
The rest of the warband had arrived midmorning the next day, tired and cold. They had been welcomed eagerly by the residents of the stronghold; all of the warband were known and welcome. Duo, unusually quiet, had reported that they had found no sign of Dorothy around the village and had left it quiet and peaceful. They had travelled as soon as all the warriors were ready, but had unfortunately left it too late to arrive the same day as Heero.  
  
From that Heero ascertained that most of the men had suffered hangovers of a similar magnitude to Duo. He accepted this; the men all needed time to relax especially when they had been travelling as hard as they had been of late. However, this was a potential war situation and such lapses would need to occur less often. Faint protests were made when Heero ordered that the ale be watered that night, but it was accepted as a sign that no more lapses would be tolerated.  
  
Hilde had looked blissfully happy, hovering near her man as he reported to his Prince. For this Heero was glad; she was as dear as a sister to him and he would not tolerate Duo carelessly hurting her.  
  
"Where is Relena?" Duo asked casually as they walked through the hall towards Heero's private room. As lord of the stronghold Heero was the only person not to sleep communally. He had a large room, one half sectioned off with a large cloth hanging behind which was his bed. The other half of the room was reserved for private consultations and discussions with his advisors.  
  
"Yes, how is Relena?" Hilde chirped up, making her presence known.  
  
Heero watched from the corner of his eye as Duo faltered a little as he walked obviously unaware that his betrothed had been but a step away from him when he asked the question.  
  
Hilde nodded to Heero as he turned to regard her, her eyes bright in the dim interior of the hall. For some reason Heero suddenly thought that perhaps Hilde had an inkling as to what had occurred but wanted Duo to tell her himself. Heero smirked a little as he wondered just how much she knew and how much trouble Duo was in.  
  
Gesturing that they both should follow, Heero led them from the hall walking down the corridor towards the women's quarters. "She is in there suffering from a fever and cough," Heero nodded towards the door as they came level with it. "Quatre is attending her."  
  
Hilde grinned and ran towards the door. Looking towards Duo she tilted her head to one side and said sweetly "Perhaps I ought to help look after the Princess," her eyes narrowed, "After all, she is very precious and delicate!"  
  
This time Heero blinked at the tone of her voice. There was an element of vindictiveness in it. Duo's eyes did not meet hers, but rather were cast down at his sandals. He was frowning as if he felt fault with his shoes. Then, he looked up at his betrothed, his eyes pleading.  
  
"She will have plenty of women attending her!" Duo looked like he was in a panic "Don't go in there."  
  
Hilde rolled her eyes and opened her mouth to reply, but before she could Heero held up a hand silencing Duo and gaining Hilde's attention.  
  
"Do not go in there if you mean to create mischief," he said. "I will not tolerate that."  
  
Hilde bowed her head a little and when she lifted her eyes again she looked shamed. In a voice more serious than she had used since he had been reunited with her she said "I will go and help. Heero, I will do her no harm."  
  
Heero nodded and with a quick grin Hilde was gone behind the door.  
  
Duo groaned as she disappeared from sight and shook his head. "Now why did you have to encourage her, Heero?" he demanded as they continued along the corridor.  
  
"Perhaps she needs to see what you cannot tell her," Heero replied pushing open the door that led to his own room. "It seems only reasonable that your betrothed should learn the whole truth from the lips of her lover."  
  
Duo muttered under his breath as he entered striding over to the fireplace where he held his hands out to warm them. "There is no truth between Relena and me as well you know," he said, turning to warm his posterior. "I told Hilde that I enjoyed Relena's company and she blew it completely out of proportion," he glared at Heero "Like someone else I know."  
  
It was Heero's turn to glare "I believe it was a little more than 'enjoying Relena's company' if you are honest with yourself. It is your guilt that Hilde is picking up on," he too had approached the fire and was warming himself in front of the flames "Remember what I said about hurting Hilde," he warned.  
  
Duo linked his hands behind his head and adopted a posture of carefree boredom "As if I could ever forget," he said. He watched Heero move away from the fire to the long table that graced the room. Upon it was a map at which Heero was now peering. Duo straightened and moved over to his foster brother and looked down at the map. It showed the borders of Mercia with major towns and fortresses marked. "Do you think Treize will mount an attack?"  
  
Heero rubbed the bridge of his nose fighting off another headache that threatened to overwhelm him. He nodded in response to Duo's question "If I were in his position, I would," he said "He will be preparing for it now. It will take at least seven days to get his troops from Lindsey, but once they are in place he will mount a siege."  
  
Duo pushed his braid back over his shoulder as he squinted at the map. "That is if he thinks she is here," he stated.  
  
"Trowa has not yet returned. He should have taken no longer than you," Heero leaned back crossing his arms. "Once Treize learns that it is me who has possession of the girl, he will attack here. And I would rather he have a target to attack rather than randomly pillaging villages."  
  
Duo nodded his agreement. "Is the King on his way?" he asked, noting Heero's deepening scowl.  
  
"I have sent a messenger appraising him of the situation," he said turning away to stare at the fire, "No doubt he will soon be on his way to assess his bride."  
  
* * * *  
  
Dorothy crouched behind a tree, her cloak held firmly around her; the browns blending in with the bark that she leaned upon. She no longer played the part of a nun, rather she now was pretending to be a boy. A simple tunic, breeches and sandals had been stolen from a hovel and her long nun's habit discarded. To the casual observer she looked the part, her hair cut short, a sword hanging from her side. Only if she was looked at closely would breasts become apparent; she had no lengths of material to bind them.  
  
She had, after the distressing loss of Relena, made her way back to the village. Activity was high there, warriors readying horses and patrols combing the woods. Dorothy had spent an enjoyable morning evading the scouts although she had not found it too difficult. In her mind she had rehearsed her scathing remarks to Heero about the ineptitude of his men when she finally had possession of Relena and he had been defeated.  
  
That thought alone had kept her warm as she had endured the hardships of the winter weather. That and anger at finding that Relena had already been taken on ahead by a now wary Heero Yuy.  
  
Her only course of action was to follow the warband and as they went on horseback she could not possibly achieve that on foot. Too that end, she had once again turned to stealing what she needed. A horse from the village, its owner too hung over to more than give a token protest before a blow from her sword had knocked him out. Some bread was added to the list of acquired items, together with a flask of wine. Once that had been appropriated she followed the men at a suitable distance.  
  
The snow had made it easy for her to track them although she had no skills as such. When dusk had fallen and she no longer had light to follow the tracks, she settled down for the night huddled in the horse blanket not caring if her mount suffered from the chills of the night. She could not light a fire for fear of it being spotted and drawing the enemy to her, and so she spent an uncomfortable night shivering from cold, chewing on stale bread and taking long sips of rough red wine.  
  
When morning dawned she was on her way again eager to move her limbs and try and rid them of the cold. Again, she saw nothing of the men, nor heard them, but rather followed their tracks hoping that they would lead her to Heero Yuy and her prize. It was only when the sun was dipping down below the tree line that she finally located their destination.  
  
A fortified dwelling, well guarded and secure. She could see that the horse tracks entered in through the manned gate, and more than that she could not see. From the noise carried out across the cold evening air there was much rejoicing and Dorothy could imagine the warm scenes within the shut hall. She had grimaced and added her hungriness as yet another reason to hate Heero Yuy, before she had slipped away to find anything edible to keep the cold at bay.  
  
And now, a day later and with a full stomach from the bread and cheese she had taken by force from a young traveller, she had returned to her viewpoint to watch the comings and goings from the fortified hill. She had spotted Duo earlier when he had emerged to check that all was well with his horse and had sneered as she saw that he was being followed by the girl who had declared herself as his betrothed.  
  
Of Heero and Relena, she saw nothing. But judging by the level of activity around the hall she was certain they were within. People from dwellings outside the hall were drifting in, herding livestock and carrying sacks as if they were preparing for a siege. Makeshift dwellings were being erected to house the additional animals and people, whilst guards ushered them this way and that.  
  
Dorothy grinned. It was organised chaos. A situation that she could easily take advantage of. Bending down, she scraped snow aside and lifted some mud and clay to her face. Grimacing she proceeded to smear it over her features to disguise her a little. More into her hair dulled her bright golden head to a dull dirty mess. She stood and discarded the sword. A boy would not carry such a thing and she would be questioned if she was caught with it. It was a poor tool anyway and easily replaceable where she was going.  
  
Satisfied that she was wearing the best disguise that she could given the circumstances, she made her way down towards the fort, blending in with some of the refugees and crept into the fort, a smile upon her face.  
* * * * * *  
  
Relena had spent an uncomfortable night, despite the relaxing bath she had enjoyed. She had been woken by Catherine who had held up a length of linen cloth for her to wrap herself up in and dry the water from her skin and hair. She had been disorientated at first, aware that she had been dreaming, but unable to completely rid herself of its threads in the steamy atmosphere of the bath.  
  
She had blushed as the sleep was driven from her eyes by Catherine's lilting laugh and had wondered whether she had spoken in her sleep. Relena had been too afraid to ask as she had dreamed that as she lay floating in the warm pool, Heero had come to her side and smoothed yet more oils into her already glowing skin. She specifically remembered that Heero had been naked, his chest smooth and well defined, although lower than that had been obscured by the water. Not that she knew what was hidden beneath a man's breeches; she had been protected from that sight when she had aided in the infirmary in the abbey.  
  
Catherine had gently teased her for her sleepiness as she had thoroughly dried her hair, wishing to protect her as much as possible from the cold that she would have to cross through to return to the hall. Relena had listened quietly to the woman's chatter enjoying the feel of a comb soothing away the knots in her hair and had let her eyes close. She had replayed her dream in her mind trying to etch it into her memory for she knew that dreams were elusive and if she didn't do so she would lose it forever.  
  
Once Catherine had declared that her hair was as dry as it would get in the damp air of the bath, she had dressed the now dry Relena in a simple white shift ready for sleeping and wrapped a warm clean cloak around her shoulders. New soft leather slippers were produced to encase her feet and Relena had luxuriated in the feel whilst mentally noting that she ought to pray forgiveness for coveting such items of material wealth.  
  
Unfortunately, as soon as she exited the bath house the cold air on her lungs made her cough return with vengeance. By the time they had made it to the shared room Relena was bent over feeling sweaty from the effort that each cough cost her. Lying in bed had not eased the symptoms, but rather had aggravated them. When she lay flat on her pallet it pained her to even breathe; only when several pillows were placed under her to prop her up did she get any sleep.  
  
By morning she felt wretched and could do no more than sip a little of the mead that they brought her to break her fast. The bread, though light and fluffy, did not tempt her appetite, and Catherine had watched her closely her mouth smiling but worry in her eyes.  
  
Relena tried not to be a burden to the woman; her brother still had not returned and she had enough to worry about without looking after an invalid who only had herself to blame for her cough. She tried to look as cheerful as possible and made a great pretence of eating the bread, but Catherine was not fooled and eventually summoned Quatre.  
  
The druid came without delay, his kind eyes taking in Relena's paleness and the sweat upon her brown. He crouched beside her pallet and held a hand up to her head, before making a great show of holding it up to his own briefly.  
  
"You have a fever," he said again reaching his hand out to stroke her hair.  
  
Relena watched the man cautiously. She knew little about Druids, other than what was rumoured amongst the nuns. His touch was gentle, a little sensual even, as he trailed his cool fingers through her hair whilst watching her closely. Catherine hovered nearby and Relena saw that there was nothing in the woman's face to indicate that she should be concerned with the man's actions. After all, he was a Druid. A Holy Man. Much like a Priest, she supposed. Quatre had probably taken his own oaths to abstain from the pleasures of the flesh and was therefore trustworthy.  
  
Quatre smiled, and poured forth some oils, which he mixed together in a fragrant blend. He reached down and pulled her slip down a little to expose her creamy flesh and poured a measure of the oils onto her skin. His fingers massaged them in to her skin and Relena instantly felt her lungs eased as the wonderful fragrance soothed her. She closed her eyes revelling in the relief until she realised that Quatre's fingers had not stopped their massage and were slipping further down towards her breasts.  
  
Her face flamed. At the same time, the sound of a door opening halted the Druids fingers much to Relena's relief.  
  
"Hilde, it is good to see you. Are you here to help?" Quatre asked, his fingers still resting on Relena's chest.  
  
"Quatre, I wondered if you would be here."  
  
Relena opened her eyes to see that the shorthaired girl who had declared herself as Duo's betrothed had entered the room. Hilde was looking at her from behind Quatre, and as she smiled down at Relena, her eyes suddenly widened as she saw just where Quatre's hand was. Hilde's eyes then narrowed. Quatre, following the direction of her eyes, flushed a little and pulled his hand away. He pointed silently at the oil, which Hilde snatched from him.  
  
"Really Catherine, I should have thought that you would pay closer attention to where his hands were," Hilde exclaimed placing herself between the druid and the patient.  
  
Catherine crossed her arms and looked at Quatre who beamed at her with innocent eyes, before looking at Hilde. "Please don't judge all men on the basis of Duo's morals," she said before taking Quatre by the arm and leading him further away from Relena. "I think that we can carry on from here," she said firmly directing her speech to the druid.  
  
Quatre smiled and allowed himself to be directed to the door. "I will speak to Heero about your health," he said to Relena as he went, "You will soon be better if you continue with the oil rubs."  
  
Catherine shut the door on him only to have him push it back open.  
  
"And sweetened mulled mead," he said quickly "And perhaps it would be a good idea to isolate her from the other women. I will speak to Heero," he added before being pushed out once more by Catherine who rolled her eyes in exasperation.  
  
"Men!" she declared, walking back to Relena and plucking the oil from Hilde's hand as she went passed her. Crouching by the invalid she placed more oil in the palm of her hand, warming it for a moment before rubbing it again on her chest.  
  
Relena sighed wondering whether she was correct to assume that just because Quatre was a holy man that he had taken a vow of abstinence. Perhaps the opposite was required for druids. She blushed at the thought and looked up to see Hilde regarding her closely. She smiled at the girl who after a little hesitation smiled back.  
  
"You are Hilde?" Relena asked, "I remember seeing you the other night back at the village." Catherine finished with the oils and tucked a blanket up around Relena's shoulders, whilst Hilde nodded. "I heard that you are betrothed to Duo. He is a good man," Relena continued as she rested her head back against the pillow, feeling tired.  
  
"I am going to get some mead and honey," Catherine nodded to Relena and Hilde and left the room.  
  
An awkward silence rose between the two remaining women, Relena conscious that the other's gaze was directed at her as if she was trying to read her. Feeling uncomfortable she shifted slightly on the pallet, her hands pulling the blankets closer around her. Still Hilde stared, assessing her. As the seconds turned into minutes and still nothing was said, Relena began to feel irritated. She had done nothing wrong, there was nothing to justify to this little woman. Having realised that she began to relax, holding the other woman's gaze in hers. Finally, Hilde relaxed too and smiled her first genuine smile at Relena.  
  
"I like you," Hilde said, turning to the fireplace and throwing some more wood on to it.  
  
Relena raised an eyebrow wondering just what she had done to pass the test Hilde had apparently set for her.  
  
"Duo likes you too," Hilde continued, wiping her hands on her dress, before turning to look again at Relena. "But understand this; he loves me," her voice was honest and there was no maliciousness contained within it. "Duo flirts, he always has and he always will. I accept that and I hope that you understand that."  
  
Relena gave a little half smile. "I understand," she said nodding, "But even if I did not, my destiny is not with him. It seems that I am to wed the King of Mercia." She had to lower her head not wishing to show that her eyes were filling with tired tears.  
  
Hilde came over to her and sat cross-legged on the foot of her pallet. Her voice, when she spoke, was mischievous. "Oh! Does another man then take your fancy?" she asked placing a hand on Relena's blanket covered leg.  
  
Relena felt herself flush. "No, there is no-one that I desire," she said firmly looking towards the fire and trying to rid herself of the sudden vision of an undressed dream Heero smoothing oils into her skin, "I just wish that I had more control over my destiny. I am nothing more than a pawn to be claimed by the strongest man." This time she could not help herself and hot fat tears over spilled from her eyes trailing down her cheeks to drop onto the blankets.  
  
Hilde gave a tut of sympathy and crawled up the bedclothes to pull Relena into a comforting hug. "There, there," she murmured, comforting the weeping girl, "All will be well, you will see," she rubbed Relena's back as her sobs turned into coughs, "King Odin is a kind man; if he chooses to wed you he will treat you well."  
  
Relena pushed away a little, bringing her the backs of her hands up to wipe away the remaining tears. "If he chooses to wed me."  
  
Hilde nodded "It will be him or it will be Heero," she sighed a little gazing towards the fire, "Either way the result will be the same; war with Lindsey."  
  
* * * * *  
  
Wufei followed tracks of the two horses that Trowa and Sally had stolen, pushing his own horse as fast as he could. Treize had given him the task of retrieving the Shaman with the additional order to kill the fleeing captives. He had not argued with Treize on this point, although he had wanted to. Sally had been following Trowa's lead and in Wufei's mind innocent of any wrong towards Une. But Treize, although apparently calm, had been adamant.  
  
"They have dared to touch her and they will pay," he had said turning away dismissing Wufei.  
  
It was not in his heart to kill the nun. He had observed her over the last few days and found her reminding him more and more of his lost Meiran. She had a fiery temper that she kept hidden behind an apparently placid exterior. He had seen the spark in her eyes before she had meekly obeyed commands. He had no wish to end her life.  
  
But Treize had ordered it. And Wufei owed his life and freedom to Treize.  
  
Distracted, he was nearly knocked off his horse by some low branches. Muttering a few curses, he shifted his position so that he lay flat against the withers of the horse, and urged it to greater speed. His pursuit was nothing more than a race; Trowa did nothing to hide his tracks, instead relying on the speed of his mount for his escape.  
  
But Trowa had the disadvantage, his mount was carrying two and Wufei knew that he would eventually outpace him. And when he did he would take great pleasure in killing him for forcing Wufei to take the nun's life.  
  
tbc 


	15. Chapter 15

Cynehelme  
  
by kmf  
  
Rating: PG13 Warnings: AU Standard Disclaimer applies  
  
Chapter Fifteen  
  
Heero and Duo were regarding the map when Quatre entered the room. The druid nodded politely to Duo, who grinned back at the holy man. They had all three known each other since they were lads and whilst in front of others Duo would put up at least a show of respect, in private Quatre was still his young friend ripe to tease whenever he could.  
  
"How is she?" Heero asked, his eyes going back to the map after nodding his welcome. His attitude was one of indifference, but when Quatre did not immediately reply he looked up his eyes narrowed. "Is she worse?"  
  
Quatre frowned a little, his eyes reflecting the worry he felt. "I will be honest. She is not well. She has ill humours on her chest, which is making it hard for her to breathe at times. It would be probably best to isolate her from the other women."  
  
Duo looked towards the doorway. "Is it an illness that will spread?" It was his turn to worry as he remembered that Hilde had only just entered the Princesses room to help nurse her.  
  
Quatre shook his head "No, I don't believe that it is infectious. But for her comfort and the comfort of those who look after her it would be best if she was put somewhere where there will not be a constant coming and going of women," he patted Duo on his shoulder, "Hilde is perfectly safe. Indeed I foresee a long friendship arising between both those women."  
  
Duo rubbed the back of his head, his expression betraying that he didn't know whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. Heero, however, grunted and turned back to his map. "See to it," he instructed Quatre.  
  
Quatre again smiled, his blue eyes twinkling in suppressed amusement. "The best place for her to go would be..." he trailed off looking towards the sectioned off area of Heero's room where his bed was screened behind linen hangings.  
  
Duo suppressed a snort of laughter as a look of shock came over Heero. Heero, in turn, glared at Duo crossing his arms and staring at him through his messy hair until Duo turned his head away to hide the grin that threatened to erupt over his face.  
  
"You want her to be installed here," Heero stated rather than questioned and Quatre nodded.  
  
"For her health, yes. It is the only chamber that is well and truly isolated," Quatre stated firmly. "If you want her to regain her health as quickly as possible, I recommend that you do this," he lowered his head so that he was looking at the ground, "You do not wish her to die do you?" he asked softly.  
  
Heero's eyes widened for an instant, then narrowed again as he wondered just how much he was being manipulated. Duo, however, looked concerned.  
  
"Is she that ill?" he asked, "Heero, if she dies..." he trailed off looking towards his foster brother.  
  
"If she dies there will be war. If she lives there will be war," Heero said turning back to his map his fists clenching slightly as he regarded it.  
  
"Perhaps," Quatre nodded, "But there are degrees of war. I believe that Relena has the power to bring longstanding peace again to the land. If she dies then we will definitely be plunged into a war that could span our lifetime and that of our children," he said before smiling broadly, "I will inform Catherine that Relena is to be re-housed here."  
  
Heero did nothing more than nod as he continued to regard his map.  
  
"No news yet of Trowa?" Quatre asked.  
  
Duo shook his head. "The longer the silence the more likely it is that he is dead," he said.  
  
Quatre looked sad. "I hope for Catherine's sake he is not. He is all the family that she has left. She is trying to keep her anxiety hidden and the task of looking after Relena helps. But I can see the worry in her eyes," he said.  
  
Duo perked up a little and gave Quatre a slap around the back of his shoulders, which made the druid stumble forward a few steps before regaining his balance. "Do I detect a hint of love in those words little man?" he asked.  
  
Quatre flushed and gripped his staff tightly. "Just friendly concern, Duo. Nothing more," he replied. "Why must you bring every utterance down to a base level?"  
  
Duo smirked, placing his hands behind his head in a relaxed attitude. "There is nothing wrong with a little romance to brighten the day. Speaking of which," he turned to Heero, "hadn't you better fetch your lady in here?"  
  
* * * * *  
  
Noin had settled in easily into her life as a servant; Millardo expected her to do as he instructed and her own pride demanded that she perform to the best of her ability and not let her husband down. She had been placed in the kitchen, given food and drink to ease her aching stomach and the opportunity to nurse her son. Once that had been done, she had been put to work.  
  
There was much to do in the great warm room that was central to the fortresses upkeep. A huge fire burned low over which were suspended a row of large cauldrons filled to the brim with stews and soups all of which would be consumed during the course of the day and would need replenishing for the next day. Winter stored roots had to be cleaned and chopped, dried meat added together with such herbs that were available. Grains were to be pounded and boiled to make thick sticky porridge to fill empty stomachs, beer barrels had to be broached and wine siphoned from its leas. Tables had to be scrubbed, soiled rushes removed and replaced, and bowls scoured.  
  
It seemed to be a never-ending cycle; as soon as one meal was finished then the next would be prepared for. Lucrezia was fast learning a healthy respect for the work that kitchen staff performed. She had been so tired the first night that she had forgone going to the women's quarters, even though she knew that Relena would be there, but had instead fallen asleep by the low burning fire tired but content that she held her son in her arms.  
  
Of course, that had proven a mistake for she was woken when it was still dark by the first of the kitchen staff preparing dough to bake unleavened loaves for the masses to eat. She was quickly told to help and had kneaded until her arms ached, her son tied to her back with a length of material, sleepy and content to be rocked as his mother worked. She had smiled wearily as she finished wishing that she too was rocked into a gentle slumber by one who loved her.  
  
Instead she was granted a small rest; time enough to break her fast and feed the baby, and then she was once again put to work. Never a free moment was afforded to her alone and she began to wonder whether she would ever be able to fulfil her husband's instructions to seek out his sister and make sure that all was well with her. As noon went by Lucrezia thought that her only course would be to seek her out during the night if she managed to stay awake long enough.  
  
Then God answered her silent prayer in the form of the head woman; Catherine. The girl bustled into the kitchen giving out instructions for mulled mead fortified with honey to be prepared for the ill princess whilst she busied herself thinning out soup for the girl to eat. Seeing an opportunity, Lucrezia immediately sought to aid the woman.  
  
Catherine had looked at her puzzled for a moment, her brows frowning as she sought to place who the woman in front of her was. A small squawk of protest drew her attention to the babe that Lucrezia carried swaddled to her back and recognition brightened her eyes.  
  
"Noin, isnt it?" she asked turning back to the soup, lifting the spoon out and letting the fluid drip so she could judge how thin it was. Satisfied she turned back to Noin, and looked at her closely. Her eyes travelled down to the baby who had located his fist with his mouth and was sucking at it hungrily. She lifted an eyebrow then smiled, "You will do. The child might brighten the girl's mood a little."  
  
Lucrezia looked down at her son and smiled too. She hoped that Relena's nephew would bring a little bit of joy into her life, even if the girl would not know that they were related.  
  
* * * *  
  
Une felt warm and secure, her eyes half closed dreamily took in that her surroundings were changing so that she knew that she was travelling. Although the horse was travelling at speed, she felt safe and secure and looking down she saw that strong arms held her close to a chest that radiated heat.  
  
For a moment she thought that it was Treize that held her, but as fleeting as that thought was, it disappeared with the realisation that it could not be Treize. He had never held her close and would never hold her. She was his priestess, his shaman, untouchable and remote. She would never know the pleasure of being embraced by him.  
  
That sadness was swiftly replaced by curiosity. Who was this man who held her so firmly and so securely, his mind on both her safety and the speed and direction of his horse. She turned her head slightly, ignoring how her hair whipped around and stung her eyes. Looking up she saw the prisoner Trowa, his eyes narrowed concentrating on his flight. Feeling her movement, his eyes flickered down to her, his mouth pulling into a small smile.  
  
Une felt confused. How was it that she was where she was. She recalled nothing, her memory hazy and confusing. She looked about herself trying to ascertain where her master was and was frightened to find that she could not see him, only the holy woman on a horse, her robes rucked up around her thighs, her face determined.  
  
"What...?" Une began to struggle against the warm hands that held her and felt Trowa's arm strengthen his hold about her.  
  
"Relax," he said, his voice barely catching her ear over the thunder of the hoofs and roar of the air. "I will do you no harm."  
  
As they burst forth from trees into downland, the holy woman pulled up level with Trowa, and called to him her voice harsh.  
  
"She slows us down, you must leave her!"  
  
Trowa's arm once again pulled her close as if he could merge their two bodies into one. He did not reply and he did not stop their onward flight. Again the nun called.  
  
"They will not follow if you release her!" She said, her face pulling into a frown, "We must warn of this war!"  
  
This time, after a small hesitation, Trowa nodded. He pulled the reins of the horse in and the beast slowed its stride, its head shaking from side to side and snorting in its irritation of losing its stride. As they slowed, Une wondered why she suddenly felt regret that the closeness to Trowa would soon disappear. She found herself clutching at his arm as his horse halted, and the odd sensation of tears forming in her eyes.  
  
He looked at her, his hair flopping forward over one eye now that they had stopped, his one visible eye widening at the emotion in her eyes. For a moment Une believed that he would renew his hold of her and urge his horse once again into motion. But then the moment passed and he leaned to the side allowing her to slide to the ground.  
  
She stared up at him, filled with an odd sense of loss as his hand caressed up her back, trailing along her neck to her cheek then away. They looked at each other, Une aware that the spell that was weaving between the two of them was growing stronger until suddenly it was shattered by the nun.  
  
"Come on, Trowa!" she cried in concern, looking over her shoulder in the direction they had come.  
  
"Wait here. They will come for you soon," Trowa said to her softly, before he pulled on the horses reins turning it slightly and urging it into a gallop.  
  
The nun stared at Une for a moment, then followed the warrior. Une stood quite still, watching them go until the landscape swallowed them up. Still she stood still, listening to the wildlife returning to the land now that it was calm and quiet. Birds called as they flew overhead. In the distance there was the short sharp yap of a fox out foraging.  
  
Une felt peaceful and calm and let the world flow over her as she stood tall, calm and serene. She felt herself connect with the spirits of nature that ebbed and flowed around her and felt herself float calm and happy, content to meditate as she waited.  
  
Her wait was not long. Soon the calm eddies that flowed around her began to unwind, blown by strong emotions and effort. Opening her eyes she saw Wufei approach pushing his horse fast, his eyes narrowed and anger radiating from him. He saw her instantly and directed his horse towards her, pulling back on the reins to stop it mere feet away from her. The horse snorted in its protest, its forelegs lifting off the ground narrowly missing Une.  
  
She did not move, but watched detached as the warrior slid off from his horse and took hold of her arm. She felt her own aura darken at his touch, reflecting the anger he felt and felt her mood thicken.  
  
"Why did you allow yourself to be taken?" he demanded, looking past her to where he could see fresh hoof prints leading off into the distance. "You have caused Lord Kushrinada dishonour!"  
  
At the name of her Lord, Une felt the calm that she had gained from her meditation start to dissipate at a faster rate. The familiar darkness that overtook her at times began to well up and her fists clenched.  
  
"Treize." she murmured her eyes lowering to regard her hands which seemed to move on their own volition.  
  
She lifted her eyes to Wufei who regarded her with disgust. It was an unusual expression to be given to one so used to seeing fear reflected in the eyes of the men around her. She pushed her hair behind her ears, her eyes narrowing. The last clinging threads of the spirits of nature snapped from around her as she felt the comfortable dark shamanic powers settle across her shoulders enveloping her in their cold embrace.  
  
"Enough!" she growled at Wufei, smiling at his sudden wary expression as he realised that she was no longer weak and compliant as she had been moments before. He was a fool, as most of the warriors were. Blind and trusting, following their leader no matter what the instructions were. Treize was a master of manipulation; there was not one among their band that he did not have some hold on. Wufei was no different. He trusted the one that had granted him freedom.  
  
Une's smile broadened. How different it would be if Wufei knew the truth.  
  
Wufei was staring at her unsettled by the myriad of expressions that she knew must be passing over her face. Finally she managed to settle on a scowl and made to climb up onto the horse that Wufei had ridden. She was interrupted by Wufei holding her arm to restrain her.  
  
"My orders were twofold. Find you and kill the hostages," he said. "I am still to finish my mission."  
  
Une looked at him closely. She saw the grim determination in his eyes, the desire for revenge and the open lust for battle. She understood these emotions and she should have supported him wholeheartedly; after all, it was Master Treize's desire. But something within her protested, demanded that she prevent Wufei hunting the fleeing couple.  
  
"No," she shook her head, "They are too far gone ahead to pursue. We will return to Master Treize."  
  
Wufei looked at the hoof prints in the snow; the edges were crisp and fresh firm evidence that the horses had gone through not so long ago. Footprints were evident next to Une that were not hers, prints that had stood remarkably close to her. She had not been tossed from the horse as it had ridden by, rather she had been placed gently on her feet and some time had passed before her captor had remounted his horse.  
  
Une watched him assess the situation and turn to glare at her. She narrowed her eyes and asserted her own power. He was her subordinate and would not question her motives; only Treize could do that.  
  
"Come!" she instructed climbing onto the horse before turning the animal and retracing their steps back to Treize's camp. She did not bother to check to see if Wufei was following; she knew that he would like the obedient slave he was.  
  
* * * *  
Heero entered the women's quarters without bothering to announce his presence by knocking on the old wooden door. All would be out gainfully employed around the stronghold and only Relena and the women who tended her would remain within.  
  
He disliked the thought of taking her into his own quarters, not least because he would be giving up the comfort of his bed that he so rarely slept upon. He treasured his own private space; it was the one positive benefit of being Lord of his own stronghold. Whilst others made do with communal living he had the luxury of his own space in which he was free to do as he wished, when he wished. And with the prospect of war drawing ever closer he much desired peace and quiet in which to ponder it.  
  
Perhaps that was why Quatre had suggested it to him. Quatre was well aware of Heero's tendency to over analyse and brood about situations. Perhaps the druid thought that he was doing Heero a favour by suggesting that he take a companion into his room. A sick companion at that.  
  
Relena was lying upon her pallet, her face pale, her eyes closed. Her hair had been braided into two long plaits that shone like gold as it reflected the flames of the fire that warmed her. She was asleep, deeply so, as she did not open her eyes at Heero's approach. Even when he squatted beside her reaching a hand out to touch her warm hair she still did not stir.  
  
"She has only just gone to sleep," Hilde said softly making Heero jump slightly and pull his hand back swiftly. He had not realised that she was in the room, so quiet had she been. He glared at her for catching him showing the girl any sort of affection.  
  
Hilde smiled back at him, standing up from the shadows the fire cast to come and kneel beside him. She patted his arm in an understanding manner, which made his hackles rise even further.  
  
"What do you want, Heero?" she asked.  
  
"Relena," Heero answered looking down at the sleeping woman.  
  
Hilde giggled, "Oh my!" she exclaimed, "You are direct!"  
  
Heero glared again at her annoyed that she was not cowered in the least. "Quatre has instructed that I give my room over to her," he said bending down to the sleeping woman and gently sliding his arm under her back and knees and lifting her effortlessly.  
  
She was lighter than he recalled now that she was not wrapped up in heavy cloaks and blankets. His hands, not encased in gloves, could distinctly feel her warm skin and contours as he shifted her slightly so that he held her more securely. She sighed a little nuzzling her head into his chest, her hands automatically grasping at the material of his tunic.  
  
He stood still for a moment wondering why it felt so right to hold her close, allowing his finger tips to caress the edge of the swell of her breasts. Hilde gave a gentle cough, once again startling Heero.  
  
"Shall I open the doors for you?" she questioned.  
  
Heero stood still startled again, a little unnerved in the way that Relena seemed to absorb his very awareness of his surroundings. He tore his face away from hers and looked at Hilde and glared at her. She smiled in return and moved to the door to open it. Still glaring, he walked past her down the passageway towards his own room. Hilde made to follow, but Heero had had enough of her barbed observations.  
  
"Inform Catherine that I have moved Relena," he said not bothering to look over his shoulder. A loud sniff and heavy footsteps alerted him to the fact that Hilde had obeyed, although she had not been overjoyed to do so. Heero allowed a small smile to grace his face; Hilde was becoming a handful and needed to be reminded of her place now and again. Although he loved her like a sister, it would not do for her to absently tease him in front of others.  
  
He entered his room by kicking the door open with his foot and ignoring the startled looks on both Duo's and Quatre's faces, walked directly to his screened off bed. He laid Relena gently down upon the pallet and held a hand against her forehead when she did not wake. She was still hot and her breathing a little troubled.  
  
Quatre watched her for a silent minute, then directed Heero to sit her up while he arranged bolsters so that she would lie in a more upright position. Heero sat on the edge of the bed holding Relena to his chest, uncomfortably aware of her chest pressed against his own, and her limp head resting on his shoulder. When he laid her back down, still she didn't wake.  
  
"It is a good thing," Quatre said reassuringly. "Sleep is the best medicine for her at the moment. I am sure that when she awakes she will be much improved."  
  
"And able to return to her own room?" Heero asked, leaving the bed without a backward glance and striding back to his map. He needed desperately to be distracted from the woman who lay so invitingly in his bed.  
  
"If that is what you really desire," Quatre answered knowingly.  
TBC 


	16. Chapter 16

Cynehelme  
  
by kmf  
  
Rating: PG13 Warnings: AU Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, but I do own the plot ^^  
  
Chapter Sixteen  
  
Lucrezia sat by the fire in the Lords room quietly nursing her baby. Relena was asleep, the rosiness in her cheeks showing how much improved she was after several days careful nursing. It had been a difficult few days, although Lucrezia was sure that Millardo would be proud and well satisfied by how she had performed.  
  
It had been difficult though. The first shock for Lucrezia had been the unpleasant surprise she had received when she entered the women's chambers and found them empty. She had paused on the threshold looking about and for a moment could only think in despair about how disappointed Millardo would be in her for failing such a simple task.  
  
She had been brought out of her stupor by Catherine tapping her on the shoulder.  
  
"The Princess has been moved to the Lord's chamber," Catherine had said before moving swiftly down the hall.  
  
That had been surprise number two. Lucrezia's heart had jumped again. The Lord's chamber? Did that mean-? She had been given no time to ponder as Catherine had called her to hurry up and follow her.  
  
Lucrezia had scurried after the departing woman trying not the spill the sweet mead that she carried, her mind working on the different possibilities of why exactly Relena had been moved. It was true that she was destined to be a bride, but was it possible that she had been already taken against her will by the Prince of Mercia rather than the King? Lucrezia's hands had gripped the tray tighter in anger; the fate of titled women was a sad one, to be used in political marriages regardless of their feelings. The baby, picking up on Lucrezia's agitated state, had started to wail causing Catherine to turn and stare at her with hands on her hips.  
  
"What is wrong Noin?" she had asked seeing the strained expression on Lucrezia's face. Her eyebrow raised, as she seemed to understand the serving woman's thoughts "Relena has been moved for her health, nothing more," she had said "It is the King's decision as to who she weds, Lord Heero will not disrespect that."  
  
Lucrezia had tried to make her face look surprised, "That has nothing to do with me," she said, jiggling slightly in an effort to soothe the baby on her back but not so much as to spill the mead.  
  
Catherine's eyes had narrowed. "No, it does not," she said before turning to walk down the hall again, "Come", she instructed.  
  
Lucrezia had followed meekly.  
  
When they entered the Lord's room Lucrezia could not help but feel relief when she saw that Heero and two of his companions were studying maps and discussing strategies and that Relena had been left on her own in a bed, fully dressed and lying peaceful and sound asleep. Catherine had beckoned her forward and Lucrezia had placed the tray beside the sleeping girl.  
  
"It would be best to leave her sleeping for now," Quatre had instructed.  
  
Catherine nodded and took the mead from the tray to place it by the fire to keep warm. Lucrezia studied the sleeping girl. She and Millardo were so similar it would be difficult not to pick out that they were siblings. Both had long golden locks, the same pale skin and delicately boned features. Lucrezia had had difficulty not to tear up as she gazed upon the sleeping girl and had instead busied herself around the sickbed making sure that Relena was comfortable as possible.  
  
Surprise number three came in the form of the Druid Quatre. She had become aware of him watching her closely, or rather watching her baby closely. When he had stepped up to her and delicately traced a finger along her baby's soft cheek she had been hard pressed not to push him away. When he asked whom the baby's father was she thought that she would faint.  
  
Catherine had come to her rescue, pushing Quatre away with practised ease and scolding him for scaring her. To Lucrezia she had reassured that Quatre was perfectly safe and that if he became too nosy then she must tell him to mind his own business. Quatre had looked mildly offended at this but had backed off with a few glances towards the child as he went.  
  
Lucrezia had been able to avoid him quite well since; his attention had been taken up in providing medicines for Relena and discussing the threat of war with Heero and his war band. He also had religious duties that he performed studiously. Overall, Lucrezia did not perceive him to be a threat but she worried about his preoccupation with her child.  
  
Relena had also been taken with the babe, although for quite different reasons to Quatre. Relena seemed to have a natural mothering instinct and from the first moment she held the baby had fallen in love with it. Lucrezia smiled a little in recollection. She was sure that the presence of an innocent life to dote on had helped her recover much faster.  
  
It was sad that she could not tell Relena that they were sisters and that the baby that she took so much pleasure in was her own nephew. But Millardo had told her not to reveal this to his sister. He had wanted to protect his wife and son as much as he could and to do that no one could know who they were, not until the threat of Treize had been removed.  
  
Her son finished feeding, unlatching from her nipple in sleepy contentment, his lips twitching into a small smile from wind. Even at such a young age she could see Millardo clearly in his features. As she gently patted his back she wondered exactly where Millardo was and what he was doing and whether she would ever see him again. Tears welled up in her eyes as she recalled his strong arms around her and she prayed to God that he would come back to her soon.  
  
* * * *  
  
Dorothy grimaced as she crouched in a darkened corner of the feasting hall chewing on bread that was dry and stale. Her plan was not working quite as she had imagined it would; she had seen nothing of Relena in the few days she had been skulking around the stronghold and had heard rumours that she was ill and that her life was in danger from the sickness.  
  
If true, that was probably Dorothy's fault. Her failed attempt to get Relena to Treize had left Relena blue with cold, but Dorothy felt no guilt for it. Rather, she blamed Relena for not doing what was clearly the right thing to do; go to Treize. Still, it would be extremely annoying if the girl died. Dorothy was not sure that Treize would grant her property and title if she did not deliver Relena alive.  
  
Dorothy had caught glimpses of Heero stalking through the halls and grounds, his face grim as he discussed defences with his warriors. She had not put her disguise to the ultimate test of being seen by him though, somehow she felt that he would see through the guise of boy easily. Instead, she kept to shadows trailing him when she could and attempting to get a feel for the complexities of the much altered Roman house.  
  
Grimacing in disgust, she tossed her bread to one side. Because she was not openly affiliated to any of the families that had taken shelter within the stronghold, she had only been able to get her hands on left overs. And there were little of those available; at the end of winter nothing was wasted, even more so in times of war. Her stomach grumbled loudly, but she was determined not to pick up the bread and eat it. She was from a proud lineage; she would not act like a pauper.  
  
Standing up, she looked around the hall. It was late and the room was full of people bedded down for the night enjoying the heat that the large fireplace provided. Dorothy picked her way gingerly amongst them; careful not to wake anyone as she made her way towards the kitchen. She knew that place would be full of sleeping servants, but was confident of her skills in moving stealthily. She was determined that tonight she would eat something hot; meat, broth, bread - she cared not what, so long as it was fresh and warm.  
  
The low burning fire dimly lit the kitchen casting long shadows across the room. Sleeping on pallets near to the fire where the cooks and their assistants. Dorothy scowled. It was going to be difficult to get close to the pot that steamed gently over the flame, giving off delicious scents which made her stomach ache with hunger.  
  
"Hungry?"  
  
A hand on her shoulder made her almost cry out in alarm. She had not heard anyone approach and was totally taken aback by it. She spun around, crouching in a defensive pose, her hand grasping hold of the hilt of the sword that hung at her side.  
  
Light blue eyes dazzled her for a moment as she looked up into the calm tranquil face of a man dressed in white robes. His pale blonde hair fell messily around his face, and reflected the orange of the flames from the kitchen fire. He smiled at her, holding his hands up in a silent declaration of peace. Dorothy allowed herself to straighten, her hand dropping away from her sword. Her eyes narrowed as she regarded the man in front of her.  
  
"Who are you?" she demanded deciding to take the offensive and try and bluff herself out of her situation.  
  
"Quatre is my name," he replied looking at her closely. She stiffened at his regard, her hand wandering back to her sword hilt. His blue eyes seem to pierce through her disguise and she felt momentary panic that he might detect that she was a woman.  
  
"And you are?" he was smiling gently, his voice calm and soothing.  
  
"Hungry," she replied honestly.  
  
His grin broadened at her reply and he turned from her and walked into the kitchen. Taking a bowl he walked to the fireplace, stepping over the sleeping staff. One woke, pushing themselves up onto their elbow and squinting up at the man who was helping himself to stew from the pot.  
  
Quatre murmured reassurance and the servant nodded and huddled back under his cloak as Quatre finished measuring out the bowl. He picked his way back across the room and walked past Dorothy to a bench where he sat down and held the bowl up towards her.  
  
She hesitated for a moment, but then the scent of the meat overwhelmed her and she walked up to him and all but snatched it from his hands. He smiled and patted the seat beside him before producing a small loaf of bread that he tore in half before presenting her with the larger portion.  
  
Dorothy took this without hesitation and dipped it into the meaty stew before bringing the gravy laden bread to her mouth. She nearly sighed in her delight. Fresh bread, soft and fluffy. It almost melted in her mouth. Before she knew it she had consumed nearly half the bowl and most of the bread, her mouth straining to keep up with the urge of her stomach to fill it as quickly as possible.  
  
Quatre made no comment, but quietly sat beside her nibbling on his portion of bread, his eyes on the fire rather than her. As her stomach became fuller, Dorothy slowed down her desperate consumption and turned her gaze once again on the man beside her. His robes demonstrated that he was a druid; possibly Heero's advisor himself. Her eyes narrowed as she considered this. If he was, then perhaps she could use him to her advantage. He seemed a trusting sort of person, perhaps even a little dim. Her mouth stretched into a smile. Perhaps he would be able to tell her exactly where and in what condition Relena was in if she asked the correct questions.  
  
Noise from the entrance to the hall disturbed her just as she was about to start conversing with him and she glanced up to see that a guard had entered from outside, his eyes bright with excitement.  
  
"Trowa! Trowa has returned!" he declared.  
  
Dorothy stiffened as Quatre surged to his feet and the men in the hall began to stir. Sure enough, on the guard's heels, Trowa entered looking cold but determined. Sally followed and Dorothy's eyes narrowed to almost slits. Taking advantage of the commotion in the hall, she slipped away (making sure to take her food with her). Her hatred of Sally increased as she thought with irritation just how close she had got to finding out something. Still, Quatre seemed to be honest and gullible. She now had a target to aim at to find out information.  
  
That knowledge and the fact that her stomach was full and satisfied caused her to smile for the first time in many days.  
  
* * * * *  
  
By the time Quatre looked around the waif he had helped obtain food for had disappeared. He smiled slightly before turning his attention back to Trowa. There was little point trying to find the girl; Dorothy had proven well adept at hiding herself in the crowds that populated the strong hold.  
  
He had realised who she was the moment that he had caught sight of her picking her way through the hall. The aura that surrounded her was feminine, although dark and swirling, full of ambition, regret and hope. He had seen her several times before usually watching Heero from a distance, her eyes dark and needy and from Duo's description of the missing nun, she could be no other.  
  
Quatre although protective of Relena, felt that Dorothy had some not insignificant part to play in determining the destiny of the Kingdoms and for that reason he did not tell Heero of his discovery. He knew that Heero would be angered by what he would take as a betrayal, but Quatre was sure that if they confronted Dorothy know then ill would become of it.  
  
He shrugged a little before striding over to Trowa, who stood wearily in the hall, his face grim and tired. Quatre smiled and pulled Trowa into his arms, embracing the stoic soldier.  
  
"Welcome back," he murmured in his ear, before gesturing over to a serving woman who was wiping the sleep from her eyes with the backs of her hands. "Quickly, go and inform Catherine that her brother has returned."  
  
The maid nodded and scuttled off to do as she was bid, while Trowa gratefully sank onto a bench accepting a cup of warm mead. The nun stood stiff and still, looking about herself endeavouring to look composed. Quatre could detect the fatigue about her, concern and worry. He took her by the arm and pulled her gently down so that she too sat before she collapsed from her tiredness.  
  
She focused on him, her eyes taking in his robes and his staff. As her eyes widened slightly he knew that she had recognised him as a Druid and expected her to protest at being touched by a heathen. He was pleasantly surprised when she instead murmured her thanks, her manner accepting and tolerant.  
  
"Is Relena here?" she asked  
  
Quatre nodded and was satisfied by the relief that shone in her eyes. "She has been unwell," he informed her, but added quickly to quell the rising panic in her eyes, "but she recovers. She is safe."  
  
She nodded, bowing her head. "Thank God," she murmured, sighing deeply.  
  
Quatre smiled, "Indeed," he said before turning his attention back to Trowa, who had downed his drink and was looking much revived by it.  
  
"Where is Heero?" he demanded.  
  
Quatre put a hand on Trowa's arm in a comforting gesture. "He has been sent for, he will be here soon," he said quietly.  
  
No sooner than the words were issued from his mouth did Heero enter the room, his ruffled hair proof that he had been sleeping before the summons came. On his heels came Catherine, a cloak only half hiding the fact that she was only wearing her shift. She ran past Heero and threw herself into her brother's arms, who embraced her tenderly in return. Neither said a word, even when they pulled away to regard each other.  
  
Quatre had to smile at the look of serenity that had returned to Catherine's face. He had missed that tranquil look over the last few days and hoped that it would remain there for a long time to come. However, given the fact that they were facing war he doubted that his wish would come true. Trowa's face confirmed his fears as he turned to his leader, Heero.  
  
"Treize has summoned his army. They march to Mercia now."  
  
Those few simple words put flight to any remaining hopes Quatre had that peace was still possible. They were now at war.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Relena stirred at the sound of the door to Heero's chamber opening and closing softly. Catherine had been with her when she fell asleep, but now she was alone. Rising from the bed and pushing her long hair over her shoulder, she peered around the wall hanging to see who had entered.  
  
The room was empty apart from Heero who stood hunched over his maps, his arms seeming to only just bear his weight. His head drooped, his hair falling over his brow hiding his face from her, but she thought that he seemed despondent, almost fearful.  
  
Hesitating a moment, she walked around the hanging and entered his section of the room, ignoring the chill of the tiles beneath her feet. She approached him quietly, lifting a hand and after hesitating a moment touched his sleeve.  
  
"Are you alright?" she asked.  
  
Heero started a little at her words, his head lifting sharply, his eyes focusing on her. For a moment he stared, blinking his surprise, before he lowered his eyes once more to the map.  
  
"You should be asleep," he commented.  
  
She smiled a little, grasping the material of his sleeve tighter and pulling a little on it to get his attention again.  
  
"I have slept most of today away," she said, "I am not tired. But you appear to be....worn down. Are you alright?" she repeated her earlier question.  
  
Heero stood up straight, dislodging her grip on his sleeve, his head still bent. Then he turned slowly so that he was facing her. His eyes were tired, reflecting his lack of sleep over the last few days. Relena could not stop herself from lifting a hand and touching his cheek.  
  
He froze at the touch, his eyes going a little wide. For a moment he tolerated her touch, his own hand covering hers, before he gently pulled it away.  
  
"Trowa has returned," he said, folding his arms and watching her closely.  
  
For a moment, Relena became aware that she was only dressed in a shift, her arms bare, together with her lower legs and feet. She wrapped her arms around herself unknowingly reflecting Heero's pose. Then she straightened her eyes alert.  
  
"Is Sally safe?" she asked, "Did he deliver her safely to the Abbey?"  
  
A small smile graced the edge of his mouth. "She is safe, but she is here," he said. "They were captured by Treize close to the Abbey, but were able to escape." When she turned to move towards the door, her face showing her determination to seek out her friend, he captured her hand in his. "She is sleeping. She was exhausted from the journey. You will be able to see her in the morning."  
  
Relena halted at his touch, her hair fanning about her shoulders, before settling down her back. She stood still for a moment, her fingers entwined with his as she asked. "What does Treize intend?"  
  
"He intends to attack this stronghold. He has sent for troops to support him and has given them instructions to travel immediately. They will pillage for supplies as they come."  
  
Heero hid nothing from her, his voice steady and cold. It was only when she looked over her shoulder back at him that she saw the worry that flickered at the edge of his eyes. She turned to face him, her eyes full of concern.  
  
"He would not be coming here if it was not for me," she said.  
  
His grip on her hand tightened. "Even if he had taken you, Mercia would still fight against him. We will not tolerate a King slayer on the High King's throne."  
  
Relena glanced towards the map. "But so many innocent people will suffer..."  
  
He released her hand and ran it through his hair in a tired gesture. "The innocent always suffer. We can minimise it by taking the battle to Treize rather than wait for him to come here."  
  
Relena looked at him as if she wanted to argue, but then lowered her eyes. Taking his hand once again, she led him away from the map, around the hanging tapestry, into the sectioned off part of the chamber with his bed. Heero looked at her bemused as she pointed at the bed.  
  
"Sleep here tonight," she said, "You need your rest."  
  
Heero frowned and shook his head, turning to walk away back to the chair that had been his cot over the last few nights. He was halted by Relena flinging her arms around his waist, her head resting on his back.  
  
"Please rest here," she begged her voice urgent. "If you sleep well, then perhaps you will be able to think of a better solution to this problem, one that will spare more lives."  
  
He stood stiff and still but did not throw her off. "There is no other solution," he said, his voice grim.  
  
"Please, sleep here," she whispered, pulling away slightly as if testing to see whether he would walk away. When he did not, she pulled away completely, her head bowed and her hands clasped in front of her embarrassed at her own forwardness, but determined to have her way in this matter.  
  
His hand reached her face, cupping her chin and tilting her head back slightly so that she looked up at him. His mouth pulled into a small smile. "You are an odd woman, Relena Peacecraft," he said, his mouth dipping down towards hers.  
  
For the briefest of moments Relena thought that he would kiss her and her eyes closed in anticipation of it. When his fingers released her face with a final caress to her jawline, she opened her eyes again to see that he had pulled away and was walking towards the bed. She bit her lip trying to dispel the rising feeling of disappointment and watched him lie back with a sigh.  
  
She followed him to the bed and knelt beside him gently unlacing the thongs of his sandals that were strapped around his lower legs. He made no protest to her ministrations and sighed a little in what she hoped was contentment when she had finished.  
  
Looking around herself, Relena looked to find a shawl or cloak she could put around her shoulders; although the fire still burned brightly, her shift was thin and provided no warmth at all.  
  
"Come lie beside me," Heero murmured sleepily, his eyes closed and his face relaxed. When she did not comply straight away, he opened one eye and peered at her, "Its cold and Catherine will never stop scolding if I let you catch cold this night." Still she hesitated. Heero closed his eye again, "Trust me," he said quietly.  
  
Relena watched him for a moment more, then clambered onto the bed next to him, lying on top of the blankets. She lay poker straight and stiff, listening to his breathing, which was relaxed and even, wondering how she was ever going to sleep laying this close to a man. No, laying this close to Heero. She shivered at the thought, feeling slightly excited by it. Heero felt her tremor and propped himself up on an arm.  
  
"Get under the blankets," he ordered.  
  
Relena flushed, wanting to protest that she was perfectly warm, but wondering how she would explain that her shivers were not due to the cold, rather to his proximity. He lifted a hand to her forehead feeling her temperature and her blush increased. Pulling away, she scooted under the blankets, turning her back to him, and willed for her rosiness to dissipate.  
  
She was certain that she would never get to sleep this night.  
  
TBC 


	17. Chapter 17

Cynehelme  
  
by kmf  
  
Rating: PG13  
  
Warnings: AU  
  
Standard Disclaimer Applies  
Chapter Seventeen  
  
King Odin had ridden long and hard to get to his son's stronghold. He had received word of Heero's mission being successful a few days before. He had been glad that Relena Peacecraft had been safely acquired and felt great curiosity as to what the girl was like. Her status, of course, was most important. As sole remaining heir to the High King's Throne, she was a prize beyond anything else in his realm.  
  
The status of High King that her father had enjoyed had been an empty title. He had held little power, the county that he ruled over was minor in size, although it did contain several important ports that were vital to trade. The old High King had been a peacemaker rather than a ruler, carefully judging disputes between the lesser Kings who held, ironically, more wealth and power. The Peacecrafts had known and understood this, and had been perfectly content in their role.  
  
But now that Peacecraft was dead and all that remained was his daughter, things changed dramatically. Here was an opportunity for a lesser King to claim the High King's role and back it with wealth and power. And Treize, having manipulated several kingdoms in his own quest for power, was striving to complete his greed by claiming the girl.  
  
However, Treize had been too eager with his plan. He had struck before he knew exactly where the princess was and had let her slip through his fingers and into Odin's grip. And Odin would not lose her. Such an opportunity had never before come to Mercia. Whilst he would never have considered doing such a thing as Treize had done, he would not give up the opportunity presented due to Treize's deeds.  
  
Odin was determined that Mercia would gain from Kent's loss and would become the new High King's realm. To this end, he would defend his country and the girl from Treize's army even if it meant spilling the blood of all his men. Treize would not have her back.  
  
It had not taken long to organise his warband and ready them to ride to Heero's stronghold. A division had been left behind to gather able bodied peasants to swell his army's ranks. Whilst he hoped it would not come down to a case of winning the battle by sheer numbers, Odin would not leave anything to chance. He would use all the resources at hand to gain what he wanted.  
  
His warband had travelled through the night to gain the stronghold at first light, and Odin had been pleased to see that Heero had taken the appropriate measures of bringing the surrounding population within its secure walls. Whilst it would appear that Heero was protecting the poorer people within his lands, Odin knew better. Peasants who knew the land and knew the strengths and weaknesses of the stronghold could not be left where they could be captured and talk.  
  
The guards on the gates saluted as he entered the compound that was empty and quiet in the dawn light. Word was hurriedly sent that the King had arrived and by the time that Odin had dismounted, Duo was before him looking slightly dishevelled, but alert. He dropped to one knee, his fist clenched across his chest, in a mark of respect.  
  
Tossing his reins to a soldier, Odin acknowledged Duo with a grin.  
  
"Didn't take a fancy to wearing a dress then?" he teased referring to Duo's time pretending to be a nun before signalling that Duo should stand. Duo flushed and did so, and Odin embraced his foster son. "I am pleased that you are safe," he said, "Did you enjoy your mission?"  
  
Duo embraced the King back, "It was an experience that I would like not to repeat," he said, before turning and leading Odin up the steps to the hall, "Heero still sleeps, Trowa returned during the night with information about Treize and there was much discussion."  
  
Odin nodded, taking a cup of mead from a dark haired maid carrying a baby. He glanced at her thinking for a moment she looked familiar and wondered whether he had bedded her when last he was here. Perhaps he had another bastard son? The maid scuttled away without looking directly at him, her head bowed hiding her features. Perhaps not, Odin shrugged. If it were his then she would be sure to petition him for upkeep on the babe. Turning back to Duo, he tossed back the drink in one draught enjoying how the warmth spread from his belly to his stiff arms and legs.  
  
"Get someone to prepare the bath, I will use it once I have seen Heero." Odin handed his cup to Duo who nodded and walked off to do his bidding.  
  
Odin walked purposely towards his son's rooms, anticipating the roman bath. It was the thing he most missed since he had given up the stronghold to his son. Traditionally this place belonged to the eldest son of the King of Merica; the crown prince's residence once he reached the age of being able to lead a warband.  
  
As much as Odin had been delighted when Heero had demonstrated that he had the prowess of a leader, he had also hated giving up his favourite residence. It made him feel old, his son old enough to lead men and sire children of his own. Odin did not like the feeling of mortality that it gave him.  
  
He entered Heero's room without knocking and took in the maps that lay in confusion across the table. Heero had been studying the landscape and every possible line of attack open to Treize. Odin smiled in approval; a good leader had to be a good tactician. It would be interesting to hear just what Heero had planned.  
  
Discarding the maps, Odin walked to the tapestry that sectioned off the sleeping quarters and pushed it to one side. He stared in confusion at the scene before him.  
  
Heero lay asleep and next to him lay a woman, her pale blonde hair spread across the pillows. Heero held her around the waist, her back nestled against his chest, his chin resting protectively on the top of her head. Odin's first through was that he was glad that his son had finally taken a woman to bed. As he studied the girl's profile, however, his face became stony and his hand gripped the tapestry tightly.  
  
She resembled her long dead mother closely, her features were delicate, her lips pale and slightly apart to reveal perfectly white teeth. Her hair she had inherited from her father, the famous blonde Peacecraft locks. Odin found himself wondering whether, when she opened her eyes, they would be dark like her mothers were or blue like her father's had been.  
  
Odin bowed his head remembering long ago when he had first caught sight of the bride Peacecraft had obtained for himself. He had instantly been taken by the girl and had been filled with an overwhelming jealousy that she could not be his. It had been a hopeless love on his part and he had never spoken of his desire to anyone. It was a memory that he held secret and cherished in his heart, to be brought out and examined on the anniversary of her death each year, before being wrapped up and put away again.  
  
Odin had never dreamed that her daughter would look so much like she had done in her youth.  
  
Nor had he ever dreamed that he would find her lying in his son's arms.  
  
He frowned trying to push down the overwhelming feeling of betrayal that gnawed hard against his soul. Of course, Heero was destined to take all that Odin had gained in his lifetime; this he expected. But here Heero was snatching the very High Kingship out of Odin's hands; could Heero not wait until Odin had done with this life? Odin's fist clenched harder still until his knuckles shone white in the soft dawn light.  
  
"Heero," he murmured quietly.  
  
His son stirred immediately, his eyes flickering open alert and aware. He frowned as he pulled away from the woman in his arms, moving gently so as not to wake her. When he succeeded in his task, a small smile tugged the corner of his mouth as he sat regarding her lying before him.  
  
"Heero," Odin repeated.  
  
Heero looked up startled, his face paling as he saw his father, his King, before him. He quickly moved away from the bed and knelt before the older man, his head bowed in respect. "My Lord," he managed to say before Odin grabbed him by the shoulder of his jerkin and pulled him away from the bed, around the tapestry into the other section of the room. There, Odin let his hand fall away from his son's shoulder and he folded his arms regarding him in barely suppressed rage.  
  
"What do you think you are doing?" he demanded as quietly as he could.  
  
Heero, after regaining his balance, sunk down again into a pose of submission. "I have not dishonoured her," he said, his voice cold as he looked up into his fathers eyes. "I am aware that you have first claim upon her."  
  
"You are aware..." Odin repeated, his eyes narrowing further "And yet I find you sharing a bed! It seems to me that you have dishonoured all three of us!"  
  
Heero paused, before grating out between clenched teeth. "I have not dishonoured you. She is intact."  
  
"Why is she here?" Odin demanded.  
  
"She has been ill and was instructed to use this room by the Druid," Heero replied, his head still bowed and submissive.  
  
Odin's eyebrow raised, "Did Quatre also instruct you to sleep with her? Is that part of her treatment?"  
  
Heero's eyes narrowed and he stood glaring at his father. Any words he was about to utter were interrupted by Relena, wrapped in a cloak, walking around the tapestry her face flushed with embarrassment, her eyes wide.  
  
Blue, Odin thought as he gazed at her. She had inherited her fathers blue eyes. He felt oddly disappointed. Ignoring Heero, he walked towards her and took her free hand bringing it up to his mouth.  
  
"Relena, I am Odin. King of Mercia," he stated before kissing her hand.  
  
She nodded, her eyes travelling between himself and his son. He felt himself become mildly irritated that she was not paying him complete attention. Glancing at his son, he was satisfied to see that he was ignoring her and directing his attention to the maps. "I fear that you have been poorly treated so far. I promise that I will rectify that-"  
  
He was interrupted by her soft clear voice so like her mother's that if he closed his eyes she could be standing before him.  
  
"Please tell me what you intend my fate to be?" she asked quietly and directly. He opened his eyes and found himself staring into his old friend's eyes. He felt the years melt away and once again he was looking into the eyes of Peacecraft in his youth. He shook his head trying to dispel the image.  
  
"What would you wish?" he asked, noting that Heero was again staring in her direction, alert at her question and listening intently for the response.  
  
"I would that there be peace," she said simply.  
  
"Ah....a good Christian reply," Odin nodded, feeling oddly disappointed.  
  
Her face flushed and eyes narrowed making her look more like her mother than ever before. "There is nothing Christian nor Pagan about my desire," she said, "I do not want people to die needlessly. It has nothing to do with religious principals."  
  
Odin raised an eyebrow at her outburst, and she flushed again before lowering her head.  
  
"Peace is not something I can grant you. We have you and Treize Kushrinada wants you. He will fight to obtain you. We will fight to keep you safe," he paused for a moment, casting a side look at Heero. "This room will now be hers alone. Heero, you will accompany me to the bath."  
  
Odin turned and headed towards the door without waiting for Heero's reply. His son was obedient to his King and would follow his wishes. Odin had not yet reached the door when the girl's clear voice halted him.  
  
"Is it your intention to wed me?" she asked.  
  
Odin did not turn around, but could imagine her standing still and straight, her small hands grasping the cloak around her thin body.  
  
"I will do what is best for Mercia," he answered before he and his son left her alone to contemplate his words.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Lucrezia had nearly panicked as she had served King Odin. She had met him once during the festivities celebrating her marriage to Millardo. Although the meeting had not been a long one, and she was sure that she bore little resemblance to the blushing bride she had been, she had not wanted to put her new appearance to the test. However, help was thin on the ground and when she had had the King's goblet thrust into her hands and was pushed out of the kitchen to serve him, she had little choice but to obey.  
  
Odin had looked at her closely, his brow puzzled, and she had ducked her head and raced away as soon as she possibly could. A quick glance over her shoulder reassured her that he was not following her and she breathed a sigh of relief. Her identity appeared to be still secret.  
  
She made herself look busy in one corner of the kitchen determined not to be put to use out in the hall again, and worked diligently until word came through that the King had left to greet his son and bathe. This was the moment that Odin and Relena would meet and possibly the moment that would determine her husband's sister's future. Would the old King want to wed her, or would he pass her over to his son?  
  
Curiosity got the better of her and, making an excuse that the baby needed his swaddling clothes changed, she left the kitchen and made her way cautiously down towards the Lord's chambers. She was unsure what she would do once there; it was doubtful that she would hear anything even with her ear pressed up against the stout wooden door that marked the boundary to Heero's private room.  
  
As she made her way along the corridors, she saw a lad also making his way in the direction she was travelling, his movements confident and assured. He glanced back at her and Lucrezia bent her head avoiding eye contact least he demand some task be done that would take her away from her desired destination. The youth said nothing, but continued on his way, past the Lord's door and away around the corner.  
  
It was only when he had passed out of sight that Lucrezia thought about the shoddy state of his clothes. He wasn't a Lord by his dress and she had not seen him before around the villa. Her eyes narrowed wondering just what his business was down this close to Relena, but before she could follow and demand answers to her questions the door to Heero's chamber opened.  
  
Lucrezia pressed herself back against a wall, her head bowed, and the Odin and Heero appeared. Odin looked angry, and Heero's eyes were narrow and grim. The King spotted her and nodded at her.  
  
"Go inside and tend to the Lady Relena," he ordered, his eyes glancing down to her babe for a second, before he turned and strode off.  
  
Lucrezia's heart leapt at her stroke of luck and she murmured her understanding of his orders. Heero followed his father without sparing her a glance, his face stony. From the look of them, neither of them had won the prize of Relena's hand.  
  
Pushing the door open, Lucrezia entered and found Relena standing still and straight in the centre of the room, her cloak held tightly around her. She looked a little lost, a little upset and, unsurprisingly, a little angry. She focused on Lucrezia as she entered the room and forced her mouth into a smile.  
  
"Noin, are you here to watch me?" she asked, her voice brittle.  
  
Lucrezia stood still uncertain of how to proceed. As she looked at the girl, she suddenly saw Millardo's face staring up at her strained and unhappy and she reacted how she would with her husband. She reached out and embraced Relena.  
  
Relena stiffened at first then allowed herself to melt into the older woman's embrace. For a moment they stood in the middle of the room, Relena allowing Lucrezia to comfort her, murmuring reassurances in her ear that everything would be alright. Then, she straightened and pushed Lucrezia gently away, her hands lifting and wiping away the tears that had leaked from her eyes and down her cheeks.  
  
Lucrezia could sense the barriers come up again as Relena schooled her face into a serene smile.  
  
"Is it decided?" Lucrezia asked as Relena turned to walk around the tapestry, back to the bed. "Did the King say who you would marry?"  
  
Relena's head bowed a little. "No," she said. Reaching the bed, she shrugged off the cloak that she had wrapped around her, and lifted up the plain dress that she had been given to replace her habit. Lucrezia hurried forward and helped her into it, tying a belt around her slim waist, and arranging the folds of the material.  
  
The princess allowed her to fuss, her face blank and serious. Lucrezia watched her closely, familiar with the look. Old King Peacecraft and her own Millardo both wore such a look when they pondered a serious problem and it worried Lucrezia that Relena was giving so much thought to her situation. Shouldn't she just be doing what was best for her; King Odin was older but he would keep her safe and give her security. There might not be love between them, but that was not a necessity.  
  
A protesting cry interrupted Lucrezia's thoughts as her son began to wake, his stomach empty. She smiled a little apology to Relena, before undoing the shawl that tied the child to her back. Pulling her dress open a little, she sat the on the bed before holding him to her breast.  
  
Relena crouched down before her, a small smile on her face as she watched the baby's hands seek out and hold onto his mother's breast. She reached out a hand and stroked the baby's bald head and her face grew sad.  
  
"If this war goes ahead, many mothers will lose their sons. Even though they are now men, I am sure their mothers always think of them as their babies," she looked at Lucrezia. "Noin, how would you feel if your son's life was threatened?"  
  
Lucrezia blinked a couple of times. Her son's life was at risk; if it was discovered that he was in line to inherit the High King's throne, Treize would not hesitate in ordering his death. She tightened her hold around her child and he frowned in protest. Lucrezia was about to answer Relena's question when the door opened, heralding the arrival of arguing people.  
  
Relena stood frowning and turned pushing the hanging back so that she could see who had entered. Peering around Relena's shoulder Lucrezia could see that it was a woman and a lad. The woman was dressed in a black habit similar in design to the one that Relena had been wearing when she arrived and Lucrezia supposed that it was the nun that had arrived during the night with Catherine's brother.  
  
The nun dragged in with her by the ear the lad that Lucrezia had seen outside the chamber earlier and Lucrezia instantly stood defensively beside Relena. Had the lad been spying? Was he an agent of Treize?  
  
"Let me go!" the lad gasped, reaching his hand down for his sword. The nun's eyes narrowed and she twisted her fingers viciously causing the lad to cry out in protest, his hands automatically moving up to defend his ear.  
  
"Sally!" Relena exclaimed, then held a hand up to her mouth. "Dorothy..?"  
  
"I found her outside your chamber attempting to listen to your conversation," Sally said, "which was a little strange as I heard a tale last night about her kidnapping you and trying to take you to Treize before disappearing."  
  
Dorothy said nothing, but continued to glare at the nun.  
  
Relena lowered her hands from her mouth and reached out and touched the nun's arm. "It is alright, Sister," she murmured, "Dorothy means me no harm."  
  
The two women stared at Relena in surprise and Lucrezia found her own face reflecting a similar expression. The lad was, without a doubt, Dorothy Catalonia. The one Millardo had warned Lucrezia of. And yet Relena was supposing that there was no harm in that woman, that enemy, being in the same room as her. In the short time that Lucrezia had come to know Relena she had discovered several things about her. One was that she was not a foolish girl, but intelligent enough to realise that Dorothy was a political risk.  
  
Sally seemed to think so too as she very reluctantly let go of the girl's ear and stood with her arms crossed and her mouth narrowed in suspicion. Dorothy allowed herself to massage her injured ear for a moment before turning a stunning smile at Relena; a predatory smile. One that made Lucrezia's heart miss a beat for a moment.  
  
"So....it seems you need my help after all," Dorothy drawled.  
  
Lucrezia stared at the young woman before turning to Relena expecting her to deny what Dorothy said. Instead, Relena looked directly back at Dorothy, her face strangely serene and determined and Lucrezia suddenly felt fear flood through her veins.  
  
Just what did Relena have plans to do?  
  
TBC 


	18. Chapter 18

Cynehelme  
  
by kmf  
  
Rating: PG13 Warnings: AU Disclaimer: I do not own GW or any of its original characters. However, I do own this plot ^^  
  
Chapter Eighteen  
  
Relena saw surprise and fear appear simultaneously on the faces of Sally and Noin when she told them what she wanted to do. She smiled a little; who could blame them for thinking that she was mad. Sally had only just escaped from Treize's camp and here Relena was expressing a desire to go to it and offer herself to Treize.  
  
Sally was the first to recover. "What on God's earth are you thinking?" she demanded, reaching out and shaking Relena by the arms. Relena made no effort to resist the nun's protests, even though her fingers pressed tightly and she knew that she would have a bruise to show from it. She knew that Sally was reacting out of concern for her wellbeing and would never normally hurt her.  
  
Dorothy had thrown herself across Heero's bed, her arms stretched out either side of herself, her eyes closed in the bliss of feeling a comfortable bed beneath her body once again. "She is thinking that she might prevent this war," Dorothy said, cracking open one eye to peer at Relena. "Am I correct?"  
  
Relena sighed and nodded, gently touching Sally's hands to remind her that she had not relinquished her grip. Sally flushed a little and let her go, instead she began to pace in her agitation.  
  
"You are mad!" she said, "King Odin will not let you go, not after he has gone to all this effort of gaining you."  
  
"Hence her needing my help," Dorothy smirked, closing her eyes once again. In doing so, she missed the icy glare that Sally tossed her way.  
  
Relena held her hands up trying to placate Sally. "He might not wish me to go to Treize, but he has already told me he will do what benefits Mercia the most. If I go to Treize then Treize will no longer have the need to attack Mercia. There will be no war, no needless loss of life. Lindsay will benefit and Mercia will benefit," she paused seeing that Sally was not moved by her reasoning. Relena bowed her head, "Sally, I cannot live with the thought that people died because of me. I cannot stand to think of the loss of life, the women who will lose husbands, brothers and sons, the children who will lose fathers. The families who will starve because they no longer have a man to provide for them," she felt tears well up in her eyes and she furiously tried to blink them away, "I cannot allow that to happen."  
  
She looked up to see that Sally had stopped pacing and was staring at her with a look of resignation on her face. Noin, however, was looking at her with an expression of horror.  
  
"You cant give yourself to Treize!" the maid exclaimed, holding her son close to her, "He killed your father!"  
  
Dorothy pushed herself up off the bed and stared at Noin suspiciously, her hand travelling down to the hilt of her sword. "And who are you to stop her?" she asked threateningly.  
  
Noin ignored the blatant threat and instead continued to plead with Relena, rocking her son as the baby began to cry at the raised harsh voice his mother was using.  
  
"Do you think that this is what your father would want? And what of your brother? Do you think that he would tolerate you prostituting yourself to Treize? To his killer?"  
  
Relena felt her face go white at the words the maid was throwing at her. She shook her head. "It is difficult for me to know what my father and brother would have wished, I never really knew them," she said sadly. "But, I believe that both of them would prefer that there was a peaceful ending to this rather than a war." Noin shook her head, seemingly on the verge of saying something else, but Relena walked to her and put a comforting arm around her. "My choices are limited. Stay here and marry Mercia and watch as the Mercian people are thrown into war, or go to Treize and give him the stability that he needs to take over the High King's throne with no more bloodshed," she sighed and shook her head, "There really is no choice. I must take the opportunity that Dorothy gives me."  
  
"It would have been much easier if you had come with me in the first place," Dorothy said, relaxing once again and stretching her hands high above her head, "but I suppose you had to get over your little infatuation with Heero."  
  
Relena could not help but flush at her words. If she had agreed to go with Dorothy, it was true she would not have placed the Mercian people in the situation that they were now facing. But she had been confused and frightened. And she had, did, feel an attraction to Heero. But since meeting Odin just minutes before she had felt her confusion melt away. His parting words had struck a cord with her.  
  
"I will do what is best for Mercia," he had said. Those were the words of a man who cared for his people. The words of a man who would put his own desires, needs and wants aside to do what was right for the population who called him King.  
  
Exactly what Relena had to do for her people. It was what her father would have expected her to do and what felt right.  
  
She wondered absently if Heero would understand. He, unlike her, had been groomed for Kingship from his birthing day. He had already shown her that he was willing to sacrifice everything for his King and country, and that included her.  
  
She turned to Dorothy once again. "Can you take me to Treize?" she asked  
  
Dorothy made a show of considering before answering. "It will be difficult to get you out, but not impossible. It is just a matter of choosing the time when the gates will be least guarded," she nodded pointedly towards Noin and Sally. "But I will not say more until I am sure we will not be betrayed."  
  
Sally huffed a little and put her hands on her hips. "I don't trust you Dorothy Catalonia. I will not allow Relena to go alone with you," she turned to Relena, her annoyance still plain on her face. "However, I will travel with you if you are sure this is what you want."  
  
Relena nodded and turned to Noin, who looked at her sternly. "If King Odin had relinquished his claim on you in favour of Heero; would you feel the same?"  
  
Again, Noin asked her difficult questions. Relena felt her cheeks flush as she considered the answer. If she admitted the truth to herself, then the answer would probably be no. She could not deny that she found Heero attractive, mesmerising and strong. She could imagine herself happily marrying him whilst the idea of a union with Odin filled her with an uncomfortable dread.  
  
But no, even if the idea was extremely tempting and brought a glow to her cheeks, she knew that she would still choose to try and end this war rather than be with him. Relena shook her head. She looked up and caught Noin's eyes and nodded firmly. "Yes," she answered  
  
Noin stared at her for a moment, then sighed in resignation. "I will not stop you," she whispered. "But I wish to go with you too."  
  
Dorothy snorted. "Out of the question," she answered, "We will need to travel hard and fast, the child would slow us down."  
  
Noin glanced down at her child. "We will keep up and if we don't you can leave us behind," she declared before looking stonily back at Dorothy. "If you attempt to leave this stronghold without us, I will go directly to the King and tell him what you are doing."  
  
She stood determined and Relena could not help but feel surprise at the maid's sudden change of demeanour. She looked tall and regal and even Dorothy blinked in surprise and reluctantly nodded.  
  
"You have my word," Dorothy said before moving to the door and peeking out. Seeing that the corridor was empty, she slipped through murmuring as she went. "Be ready to move. I will not be able to give you much notice."  
  
And then she was gone.  
  
Relena watched Noin close the door behind Dorothy and sat down abruptly on the floor feeling overwhelmed by the decision she had made. Sally knelt beside her and put her arm around her in a quick gesture of comfort before pulling away.  
  
"We will talk later," she promised, "but for now I feel the need to pray. I suspect that we are going to need all the help that we can get."  
  
Relena watched her leave the room feeling gratitude and love towards the nun. Sensing eyes still upon her she turned to see that Noin was looking at her, determination still etched across her face.  
  
"Why would you put yourself and your child at risk?" Relena asked, watching the maid closely.  
  
Noin half smiled and looked down at her child, her face wistful. "Because of a promise," she whispered, then she looked up at Relena and smiled broadly. "Do not worry. My son is strong enough to endure this undertaking. After all, he does take after his father."  
  
* * * * *  
  
Heero stood outside the door to his chamber and felt his anger rise to new levels. In frustration he slammed his fist into the wall causing little cracks to appear in the plaster. He pulled his fist away and ignored the blood that welled up from his knuckles.  
  
"Temper..."  
  
Heero turned to Duo and glared at him. His foster brother was not helping his mood at all. His overwhelming cheerfulness at having placated Hilde made Heero's situation seem worse.  
  
It had been days since Heero had been allowed to see Relena. And to his surprise, he missed her. A lot. Odin had been firm when they bathed together after he had found Heero and Relena together alone in Heero's chamber; Heero was not to have contact with her alone again until after the outcome of the war was decided.  
  
Nor was Odin prepared to say whether he or Heero would marry her. That too would be decided after the war. Odin had been particularly serious about this; if Relena wed either of them and Mercia lost to Treize, then any child's life that Relena happened to conceive would be forfeit. Treize would kill it on its birthing day and then force Relena to have his children.  
  
Heero had to agree with his father on this point; he would not risk Relena having something as horrible as that happen to her. And so, in effect, Relena's marriage was still open. Heero had been both pleased and disappointed by this. Odin had not said that he would not have her and Heero could not go against his King and his father even if he wanted too.  
  
But it seemed that Odin considered Heero a rival for the girl's hand and Heero was sure he was working hard to push Relena away from Heero. Whilst Odin visited Relena frequently and was seemingly happily received, Heero's visits were politely refused. Every time. And Odin seemed to take great pleasure in the fact, questioning Heero every day as to whether he had managed to see the fair princess and laughing loudly when the answer was negative.  
  
There was no doubt that Odin was treating this as a competition and that Heero was losing.  
  
Badly.  
  
Duo grinned at Heero and slapped him on the shoulder. "Come on, Heero," he said moving away from the door. "Standing here all day is not going to change her mind about seeing you, nor is attacking solid walls with your bare hands."  
  
Heero glanced down at his knuckles that had begun to sting. He nodded and followed Duo to the feasting hall and out into the courtyard beyond.  
  
A thaw had set in, the snow melting away to reveal early spring blooms; snowdrops, narcissi and primroses together with the first signs of bluebells showed that warmer weather was on its way. Normally Heero would welcome this sign, but this year it filled him with foreboding. Treize was certain to take advantage of the weather and make his first moves towards them.  
  
In the courtyard his warband practised with swords, paring off with one another and fighting in earnest. The only thing that kept a warrior from a swift death in war was practice and lots of it. None of the men held back, thrusting swords and parrying, their faces sweating with effort and grunts filling the air.  
  
"I would ask you to fight me, but I think that given the mood you have been in lately you would like as not kill me before you realised it," Duo chuckled a little at Heero's deepening scowl.  
  
"Why won't she see me?" Heero asked, his eyes on Trowa who was fighting with two short swords, one in each hand, using them crossed over one another to block a vicious downward sweep on his opponents blade.  
  
Duo shrugged. "The way I see it is that the refusing is a good thing," he said.  
  
Heero raised an eyebrow at this. "A good thing..." he repeated, "I would hate to know what in your opinion a bad thing is."  
  
Duo smirked, "Relena is obviously trying to stay away from you because you are a temptation to her," he nodded as if agreeing with himself, "She is an innocent thing, raised in a convent. What she feels probably confuses her when she is in your presence. And she is probably comfortable around the King because she doesn't feel any attraction," again he nodded. "That is a good thing."  
  
Heero frowned, not so sure. Relena had been happy enough in his company prior to Odin arriving. But then again Odin's arrival had coincided with Heero holding her all night in his bed and being a little more open in his regard of her. Heero's frown deepened. Perhaps he had scared her off by being so bold, but she had seemed happy enough about it at the time.  
  
"Heero.."  
  
Quatre touched him on his shoulder stirring him from his thoughts and he blinked a couple of times trying to clear the image of Relena lying vulnerable on his bed.  
  
"The King bids me tell you that you and your men need to get ready for a foray," Quatre spoke softly, his eyes serious. "A scout has returned with word of a raiding party near by."  
  
Heero became alert and nodded to Duo, who went down into the courtyard holding his hands up to signal the end of practice. Heero watched for a moment as Duo started to tell them of the news and was satisfied to see the spark of excitement and anticipation run through his men as they sheathed their weapons and listened to Duo.  
  
Quatre had already turned and was heading up the steps to the hall, and Heero quickly followed. They walked swiftly into the hall where Odin waited standing by the open fire. Quatre bowed to his King, then stood by his side facing Heero who also bowed in a show of respect. Around the hall small groups of servants stood in huddles whispering amongst themselves. Already the news was spreading among the people.  
  
Odin looked grim. "It has started," he announced loudly, "Treize has made his first move against us, testing our scouting capabilities and our defences. However, he will soon learn that Mercia is populated by brave warriors and strong people and he will rue the day he ever marched into our lands."  
  
The people in the hall murmured at the King's words, buoyed by his positiveness. Odin seeing that his small pretty speech to reassure the people had been successful walked forward and put his arm around Heero, leading him into a quiet corner where he spoke in quieter tones that could be heard by only Heero and Quatre.  
  
"How large is the force?" Heero questioned.  
  
"According to the scout, only about fifty men. Their flags declare them to be Treize's men, but the scout could see no sign of Treize himself." Odin replied.  
  
"A distraction?" Quatre asked frowning, "Is he planning to attack on a different front when we go after this force?"  
  
Odin shook his head. "It is possible, but unlikely. No other signs of troops have been sighted. I believe he is just testing the water. Seeing how we fight, how quickly we respond," he turned to Heero. "Win this first battle swiftly and it will give the men courage for what is to come."  
  
Heero nodded his agreement as Odin pointed out on the map where the invaders had been sighted. As he turned to go, Odin grasped him by the shoulders.  
  
"Be safe, my son," he said, pulling him into a stiff embrace.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Quatre watched Heero bow towards his father, before he swiftly left the hall to check on the progress the men were making towards getting ready. Heero had exuded discomfort at his father's embrace; neither man was usually demonstrative towards each other.  
  
Although battle had been expected, its abruptness had startled them all. Quatre knew that not all who left the stronghold this morning would return; it was inevitable that there would be some fatalities. Such were the demands of war. It would be Quatre's job to help the bereaved through the coming days and it was not a job that he looked forward to. The emotions that flowed from a bereaved person were often so overwhelming that it made Quatre nearly ill from the sensation. His gift of sensing emotions could be a heavy burden at times; although at other times it gave him great joy.  
  
Catherine bustled through the hall, sparing a glance and a smile at the druid. She had, like all the others, heard the news and was busy watching over her staff. Her face hid her pulsating worry very well, if Quatre had not had his gift he would never have known just how much she was fretting.  
  
Moving towards her, he placed a hand on her shoulder as she worked and poured in comfort and reassurance to calm her mind. She paused in her work, then raised a hand to his and patted it gently. "I am fine, Druid," she assured him, gently pulling his hand away, "Go help those in greater need."  
  
He smiled watching her move away heading with purpose to the courtyard where she was, no doubt, seeking out her brother so recently returned and so soon to be off again. Quatre sighed and said a little silent prayer to keep Trowa safe for Catherine's sake before turning and looking around the hall again.  
  
Quatre had looked for Dorothy several times since their meeting in the kitchen a few nights before, but she had gone to ground and he had not been able to find any sign of her. He felt slight guilt that he had still not disclosed to Heero that she was about but felt that Relena was well protected within the stronghold; Dorothy had little chance of removing someone who was unwilling.  
  
Pausing, Quatre felt an element of disquiet wash over him and he frowned, his eyes peering around the gloominess of the hall trying to pin down the elusive oppression that had suddenly overtaken him. A hand on his shoulder bought him back with a start. Rashid looked at him with concern.  
  
"Master, the warband is waiting for your blessing," Rashid's deep voice said in his peculiarly calming manner.  
  
Quatre nodded, allowing himself one final search for a fair-haired boy hiding within the hall, before following his servant out into the bright courtyard.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Dorothy moved swiftly towards Heero's chamber, her hair greased with tallow so that it was dark and stuck to her scalp in a manner that made her shudder with disgust. The lengths to which she had to go to achieve her goal were trying even her resolve; much more and she would seriously have to consider renegotiating the reward that Treize had promised her. When she had agreed to terms she had never considered that she would have to pretend to be a servant or debase herself by smearing old fat in her once glorious hair.  
  
It was the Druids fault. She had been finding it increasingly difficult of late to evade the Druid's keen eyes, he seemed to have a sixth sense of when she was near and would always stop what he was doing and peer around trying to seek her out. She was certain that he had an inkling as to who she was and was more than a little curious as to why he had not raised the alarm with Heero. And now that the first day of battle had arrived she certainly did not want Quatre seeing her and taking the precaution of restraining her; a tactic that if their positions were reversed she would have done immediately.  
  
Her disguise appeared to work today for the druid had not spotted her as she casually walked from one end of the hall to the other, blending in with the other servants and appearing to be part of the organised chaos. Which was just as well, for if he had detected her and raised an alarm she was not sure that she would have been able to evade capture. That would have been a tragedy for she would have missed witnessing the first stages of the war between Mercia and Lindsey.  
  
Dorothy grinned and she jogged along. War. What a beautiful word!  
  
Arriving at Heero's door, she knocked once lightly before entering, her eyes darting around to make sure that there were no strangers within the room. Relena sat at one end, her face pale as she stared at Dorothy. She stood slowly her fists catching the material of her dress. Dorothy grinned as she observed Sally come to stand protectively beside her charge, while the servant Noin remained by the fire holding her baby to her breast.  
  
"Are you ready to leave?" Dorothy asked casually, leaning against the door, her arms crossed.  
  
"Now?" Sally asked, "Already?"  
  
Dorothy nodded, impatient at the nun. The only person who was important in the room was Relena, but she seemed to be willing to let the nun talk for her. "The time is right now. The warband is leaving to answer an attack from Treize, most of the fighting men will be gone. We will leave under the pretext of servants being sent to find medicinal herbs, a common enough practice in times of war."  
  
Sally frowned and turned to Relena. "Are you sure that this is what you wish to do?" she asked, grasping hold of her hands and shaking them a little.  
  
Relena's eyes closed and for a moment Dorothy thought that she was going to faint, her face was so pale. But when she opened her eyes her expression was one of sadness mixed with determination. "I wanted there to be no battles," she said clearly.  
  
Dorothy raised an eyebrow. "And just how did you think you would get out of the stronghold with Heero here?" her mouth twitched with irritation, "That man seems to have an inherent sense as to your location, it would be impossible to remove you without him knowing. But with him gone, we should be able to leave easily."  
  
As she said the words, Dorothy felt jealousy well up within her wondering how it would feel to be regarded by Heero as he regarded Relena. As soon as she thought it, Dorothy frowned. Heero was her enemy and she had no greater wish other than to see him grovel at her feet for what he did to herself and to her grandfather. She turned back to the door.  
  
"I will secure a plain cloak for Relena. You other two; if you are coming will have to fend for yourselves. We will leave as soon as the warband has departed. I suggest that you dress yourselves in several layers of clothes; it is cold outside and we will be unable to take much with us lest we raise suspicions."  
  
Dorothy paused by the door waiting for any objection or comments, but none came. She turned to glance over her shoulder at Relena who still stood perfectly still and straight.  
  
"And if we are lucky, Miss Relena, we might even catch site of the battle itself. I would love to instruct you in the joys of an honourable fight," she said, pulling her mouth into a grin.  
TBC 


	19. Chapter 19

Cynehelme  
  
by kmf  
  
Warnings: AU Rating: PG13 Standard Disclaimer applies  
  
Chapter Nineteen  
  
Heero rode swiftly, his hands gripping his reins and his eyes alert for danger. Ahead, rode the scout that reported Treize's troops massing, leading the warband to their location. Heero allowed his eyes to sweep back over his men satisfied that they were all as prepared as they ever would be.  
  
Each man carried a sword, a shield and a spear and each man knew how to use them. The spears borrowed a long forgotten design left behind by the Romans that had once inhabited the villa by way of a mosaic depicting combat. The spearhead was long and thin, almost flimsy. It was designed to be thrown once; with skill and a little luck it would impact with a shield and the weight of the shaft of the spear would cause the blade to bend. This would hook it into the shield and make it difficult to remove, forcing the shield to be discarded as it would be unwieldy to hold.  
  
Tactics such as this could prove to be the deciding factor of a battle where the opponents all were skilled in the use of swords. And if this failed, then Heero had one or two other tricks up his sleeve. However, this battle was not his to lead.  
  
Beside him rode his father, his King. Odin had decided that he too would take to the battle field, despite the protests of his advisors. Odin had listened and had nodded, but then had held his hands up to hear no more arguments.  
  
"We will win this battle decisively; it will give the men courage," he said, "I will ride to this first battle with my son; I want to be there to assess the strengths and weaknesses of Treize myself."  
  
Heero knew that his father's decision was not a reflection of his own ability; many times had Odin praised him and he had also agreed with Heero's assessment of the likely points of attack. But still, he felt like he had been demoted and it riled him. What angered him more was that his father seemed to know exactly what he was thinking and took great delight in it. Sometimes, Heero thought, he could do without the constant competition between himself and his king.  
  
His mood was not improved by his inability to see Relena prior to leaving. He had presented himself once more at the door to his own chamber only to be turned away by the nun Sally. He had even stooped to peering over the nun's shoulder trying to catch a glimpse of Relena and had been rewarded by the sight of her standing by the fire, the glow of the flames touching her white robes and hair almost illuminating her. Her face was hidden by the fall of her hair as she kept her head bowed, but he knew that she heard his voice by the way her hands clenched.  
  
"Tell her that I go to war and would see her before I leave," Heero had said to Sally, never once looking at the nun but rather keeping his eyes on Relena.  
  
"I am sorry, but Sister Relena cannot see you at the moment," Sally said, her own posture stiff and defensive.  
  
Heero had torn his eyes from Relena to look at the nun. "She is not a nun, nor will ever be," he said.  
  
Sally's eyes narrowed, "By whose choice is that?" she demanded, before making to shut the door.  
  
Heero had lifted his eyes once more to try an appeal to Relena, but she had moved from the fire and no longer could be seen. He had glared at Sally before falling back and allowing her to shut the door. Almost seconds later his father had brushed by him and knocked, his smirk evidence that he had witnessed the exchange between Heero and Sally.  
  
Sally had once again opened the door, her scowl not brightening much as she opened the door wider and allowed the King entrance without question. She flushed at Heero's stare and had closed the door quickly leaving Heero alone and frustrated in the hall.  
  
Heero's hands gripped his reins tighter at the memory deciding that as soon as the battle was over and he returned to his stronghold he would seek Relena out once again and this time make her see him and listen to him, no matter what.  
  
"Save that temper for the enemy," his father's voice carried over the sounds of hoof fall, the amusement evident in his tone. Heero grimaced before Odin spoke again, "Relena wished me bid you goodbye," he said, "although why she could not tell you directly, I don't know."  
  
Heero's eyes narrowed further at what he perceived to be a taunt and did as his father bid. He pushed his anger down into the pit of his stomach, saving his rage for the battle that was to come.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Not ten minutes after the combined warbands of Heero and Odin had left the stronghold, Relena found herself at the gates. Her hair was covered by a shawl and her face downcast as Noin told the guards that they had been sent to seek healing herbs to help tend to the injured warriors that were sure to be returning to the stronghold that evening.  
  
The guard had looked at them first with surprise and then with suspicion. "It is too dangerous for you to wander; what if Treize attacks here direct and you are trapped outside?"  
  
Dorothy glared at the man, "Have you no faith in your own scouts?" she demanded, "Haven't they reported that the only troops near by are the ones King Odin has gone to fight?"  
  
"Why are there not enough herbs in stock already?" the guard was not put off by Dorothy's tone.  
  
"There are," Dorothy replied, turning around slightly, "but what the Druid has requested is some fresh herbs." Her eyes narrowed slightly, "Shall I go and tell him that you refused to allow us to gather what he needs?"  
  
The guard hesitated for a moment, then gestured that they could walk through. "Don't stray far," he warned, "If I receive orders to close the gates they will be closed whether you are on the inside or the outside,"  
  
"I understand," Dorothy said, leading the way.  
  
Relena felt shaky as she walked out the gates, expecting at any moment a shout of alarm to be called alerting the guards to the fact that the Peacecraft heir, the one who the war was being fought over, was escaping. She felt sly and underhanded the further she walked from the villa, imagining Heero's expression when he found that she was no longer there.  
  
...Heero...  
  
Over the last few days she had refused to see him at all for the simple reason that if she spoke with him, if she looked into his blue eyes, her resolve at doing what she knew was the right thing would waver. The temptation to stay near him was sure to overwhelm her desire to bring peace to the land. Instead, she had refused to see him, listening only to his at first surprised voice which had each day turned colder every time he came to her door.  
  
What she was doing was correct, of this she was sure. She would see that this pointless war was ended before too many lives were lost. Even though it meant sacrificing herself to the one who had killed her father and brother.  
  
"Keep up!"  
  
Dorothy's acid voice made her look up in surprise and she realised that she had fallen behind the other three women. Woodland was close and a quick glance over her shoulder showed her that the villa was now far in the distance, the guard not even now discernible at the gates. Looking forward, Relena saw that the other three had stopped and were looking at her closely.  
  
"Have you changed your mind?" Noin asked quietly, jiggling her baby that had woken up and was gurgling noisily trying to get his mother's attention.  
  
"It is too late for her to change her mind," Dorothy glared at Noin, and then at Relena as if daring her to argue.  
  
Relena took a deep breath and walked forward swiftly so that she reached her companions, and passed them, her movements her answer to Noin's question. She would go on, no matter what.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Millardo approached Treize's camp cautiously. The guards that surrounded it were well trained and alert. He smirked; although not alert enough to stop him making his way to the heart of the camp. His smile faded as he crouched down to avoid another guard pacing his way along a well trodden route between two sentry points. He was not pleased that Treize had come so close to the villa that housed his wife, child and sister.  
  
Millardo was tired, his bones ached with his weariness. In the few days since he had delivered his wife into the care of the Mercians, although they knew not who she was, he had travelled long and hard to the borders of the other major powers. There he had spread rumours of an empty High King's throne just waiting to be plucked by the strongest nation and a Princess abducted by the Mercians who were determined to claim the throne as their own. And of course all listened and heeded his words, as he knew they would. Power and greed drove the Kings.  
  
And it disgusted Millardo. Since the birth of his son he cared not for such things. The only thing that he wanted now was peace and security for his family and he was damn sure he was going to get it.  
  
Warbands from the nations were all converging on Mercia soon to clash in a battle that no one would ever forget. It would be a battle to end all battles, the loss of life would be such that all would be sickened by it and turn away from the very thought of war. Then he would take Lucrezia, their child and Relena and they would live peacefully for the rest of their lives.  
  
Inching forward, shielded by brush, he saw ahead of him a gathering of men and one woman. Treize he recognised immediately. His profile was one that Millardo would never be able to forget, the sight of it illuminated by the flames of his burning home had been etched into Millardo's mind forever. Beside him stood his Shaman, although she was harder to recognise. When last he had seen her she had been tall and proud, but now her head was bowed as her Lord pointedly ignored her.  
  
Treize was discussing tactics with his men, his words travelling on the cool breeze to Millardo's curious ears.  
  
"....get a tally of numbers of troops and their skills. By then our main force will have arrived and we will be able to mount a direct attack on the stronghold," Treize was pointing at a map, his men nodding their agreement.  
  
Millardo frowned. So Treize had already begun attacking Mercia. Well, what he was about to tell them should change their mind, he thought. Standing slowly he let himself be seen by the sentries, who cried out a warning and rushed towards him, swords drawn and threatening.  
  
He raised his hands slowly so show that he held no weapon, but that did not stop the first to reach him from grabbing him by the cloth of his cloak and holding his sword to his neck. Treize watched impassively, an eyebrow arched before giving the orders to bring him closer.  
  
Millardo found himself being dragged forward roughly and shoved to his knees in front of the Lindsey ruler before his sword was removed from his scabbard and tossed carelessly to one side. He winced at the sound of the fine metal striking a stone as it hit the earth, but then turned his attention back to Treize.  
  
Treize was looking at him closely, his posture one of indifference but his eyes giving away just how alert he was. For a moment Millardo feared that he might be recognised; although it was true he had never met Treize prior to the day when he witnessed the burning of his home but there were songs describing Millardo's appearance sung by bards of Kent. If Treize did recognise him, then his death would be swift.  
  
The sound of flesh hitting flesh drew Millardo's attention behind him. The sentries who had captured him had fallen back, one on to his backside, their noses bloody. Before them stood a foreign soldier, his fist still clenched and his face one of rage.  
  
"He was inside the perimeter," the man was saying loudly, "You are both unworthy of the trust that was given to you to guard Lord Treize!"  
  
"Enough, Wufei," Treize spoke quietly, "I will see to their punishment personally later."  
  
Both the berated guards paled at his words and hastily moved away from the still obviously irate Wufei. Millardo eyed the guard with curiosity; Treize was known to participate in the trade of slaves but this man appeared to be a free man, the bands of slavehood were not visible on his wrists or ankles and he also commanded the respect of most of his fellow men.  
  
"Who are you?" Treize asked, and Millardo turned to see that the King of Lindsey was once again watching him closely.  
  
"My name is Zechs," he replied giving Treize his full attention, "I have come bearing information that you might find useful."  
  
Treize raised an eyebrow. "Really," he said, "Of that I doubt. You are not dressed as a man of Mercia. You do not sound Mercian. What information could you have that would be of any possible use to me?"  
  
Millardo allowed his mouth to curl up into a small smile. "Believe me; Mercia is the least of your problems at the moment," he lifted his head and looked directly at Treize before climbing slowly to his feet. He paused to brush himself down, giving Treize the time to object to his movements.  
  
Treize's eyes narrowed, but then he smiled and crossed his arms. "Please do inform me of just what my problem is," he drawled.  
  
"Your fellow kings are amassing along the Mercian borders. Word has come to them that the High King's throne is empty and can be fought for," Millardo paused gauging Trieze's expression.  
  
Treize stood quite still as he listened to his captive's words. He glanced to his Shaman woman who stood a few paces behind him. "You have not discerned this."  
  
It was not a question, rather a statement.  
  
The woman raised her head to look at Treize and Millardo saw for the first time that her eyes were strangely blank.  
  
"The spirits have not been with me of late," she said in a quiet tone before lowering her head once more.  
  
Treize stood watching her for a time, before turning back to Millardo. "Where is your proof?" he asked, his tone cool.  
  
Millardo smiled. "What proof do I need? The Kings have heard that the High King is dead. They have heard that the one who killed him is in Mercia and that the Peacecraft heir is in the hands of the Mercians. They all see the opportunity that this presents to their respective kingdoms; gain the heir and gain the throne," he paused waiting for Treize to speak. When he did not, Millardo continued. "They will all battle on the land of Mercia for what they desire. The question is, will any be alive at the end of it to win?"  
  
* * * *  
Quatre shook his head a little trying to dispel the nagging disquiet feeling that was swirling around him. It had started to wrap around him like a fragile spiders web some hours before when it had been easy to shrug off as a natural nervousness given their current state of war. But gradually over the hours the feeling had increased so that it now wrapped around him like a thick rope. He could no longer ignore it.  
  
Pacing through the courtyard he looked about for the reason why he should feel such nervousness. Women talked quietly amongst themselves, the worry for their men evident in their voices. Such emotions would contribute to his unease, but Quatre was sure that this was not the sole reason for his concern.  
  
As he walked, he began to mutter a few charms to try and ease himself of the constricting feeling, aware that the people looked at him with curiosity. He smiled at them trying to convey a sense of peace and goodwill, but from their reactions of averting their gazes he was sure he failed miserably. Taking himself away from them, he walked towards the gates and boundary, which were manned by both the very young and older men.  
  
A warrior at the gate looked at him then glanced nervously over his shoulder to the woods in the distance, before looking back to Quatre. Quatre's concern spiked and he almost stumbled at the feeling. He walked towards the man, who bowed respectfully to the Druid.  
  
"They are not back yet," the man said, once again glancing outside the gates. "I did warn them not to go too far..."  
  
Quatre swallowed once before questioning in what he hoped was a steady voice. "Who are you referring to?"  
  
The man raised an eyebrow. "The young lad and the three women who went searching for fresh herbs for you."  
  
"For me...." Quatre repeated looking out the gate, frowning. "Who were they?"  
  
The guard now looked nervous. "You mean you didn't order it?" he asked, before swiftly continuing at the look on Quatre's face. "A young lad I didn't know with a smart mouth on him, the new woman Noin and her baby, the nun that came in the other night and another woman I didn't know."  
  
Quatre felt his heart sink. Noin and the baby worried him enough; there was something special about the child although Noin never let him close enough to ascertain what it was. But even more worrying was the nun and the unknown woman. Could that possibly be Relena? And the smart mouthed lad, Dorothy? Quatre gripped his staff to support himself.  
  
"Quatre!"  
  
Turning he saw Catherine rushing across to him, her skirts held high to give her greater speed. Reaching him, she grabbed him by the arm and pulled him to one side away from the guard so that he could not overhear. Pitching her voice low she said the words that made Quatre's heart sink even further.  
  
"I cannot find Relena!"  
  
He looked back out the gate and silently cursed himself. If he had followed his intuition several hours ago he might have stopped the Princess leaving the confines of the stronghold. He was certain that the unknown woman was her and that she and the others had left following Dorothy. Their purpose? Probably Relena given the gentle spirit she was had gone with the intention of trying to stop the war. Dorothy probably had a completely different agenda.  
  
Quatre turned to the guard. "Get me a horse!" he demanded, his voice uncommonly harsh.  
  
The guard blinked in his surprise and scurried off to do as he was bid, whilst Catherine placed a hand on his arm.  
  
"What is it?" she asked, concern for him flooding her voice.  
  
"I have made a terrible mistake," Quatre whispered, placing a hand on top of hers and squeezing gently trying to reassure her, "But hopefully it is not too late to rectify it."  
* * * *  
Sounds of the battle reached their ears long before they saw any visual evidence of it. Dorothy's eyes had grown bright and she increased her pace, her face glowing in her excitement. At first all they could hear were the metallic sounds of swords clashing, but the nearer they got the more the noises resolved into clearly heard battle cries, screams of triumph and of pain, and the groans of men dying.  
  
The battle itself was taking place in a small valley, bordered by woodland in which the women hid to observe. Relena wanted to shield her eyes from the sight but found it oddly compelling, mesmerising in fact.  
  
"Glorious, isn't it!" Dorothy said approvingly, hugging herself in glee as she watched the combat.  
  
"This is dangerous!" objected Noin, "Why did you bring us so close to the battle?"  
  
Dorothy raised an eyebrow, but did not take her eyes away from the fight before her. "Where there is battle, Treize will be near," she explained, before pointing into the distance, "See! Over on the far ridge,"  
  
The three other women looked and saw three horsemen sitting still watching the progress of the battle.  
  
"Scouts," Dorothy said with certainty, frowning as they suddenly turned their horses and sped away. "They go east, which is where we will find Treize....although I am puzzled as to why they don't wait for the outcome of the battle."  
  
Relena continued to be transfixed by the sight of men fighting before her, swords glinting in the sun, snow and earth turning a deeper scarlet. She searched for Heero amongst the battling masses and was rewarded by seeing him at the front of his warband standing high in the stirrups, his sword held high directing the movement of his men. Although she was too distant to see his features, she could well imagine his eyes glinting dangerously and cold as he fought for his country.  
  
The image of him breathing heavily from the effort of fighting, his hand gripping his sword tightly, his men obeying him without question made Relena's heart flutter a little and she frowned at the unwanted feelings. War was something to be avoided, not gloried in and she was irritated that even for a moment she felt desire for her perceived image of Heero.  
  
Dorothy touched her arm, making her jump. "You understand now, don't you!" she whispered, "You understand the compelling image of battle."  
  
Relena's frown deepened. "No," she stated firmly, "You are wrong. This is nothing to be gloried in. Men are dying before you, lives that cannot be replaced."  
  
Dorothy made no answer, instead was staring off into the distance. Behind Heero's warband another group of warriors had appeared and were charging forward to catch the Mercians between themselves and the Lindsey warriors.  
  
"...who..?" Noin murmured staring at the newcomers that the Mercians were, so far, unaware of.  
  
"Wessex!" Dorothy exclaimed recognising their banner, her fists clenching. "Why are they here?"  
  
Relena felt her mouth go dry as the Wessex warriors unsheathed their blades and urged their horses on directing their movements to the Mercian's unguarded backs. Heero fought on unaware of the impending force coming towards him and Relena moved forward a few steps, took a deep breath and cried out as loud as she could, waving her arms madly trying to get his attention.  
  
"Heero!"  
  
It was impossible that he could hear her from his distance from her, the clash of blades and the battle cries of men would completely drown her out. And yet as his name left her mouth she saw him stiffen in the saddle and turn to look in her direction. She could not see his face, she could not see his lips move, but she was sure she caught his words floating across the valley to her tinged with surprise.  
  
"....Relena..."  
TBC 


	20. Chapter 20

AN: ^_^ Thank you for all the wonderful reviews you have given me over the last four chapters. For chapter 19 thanks to Mama-Sama, Lady Lydia (don't worry! All will be well ^_~), Rage of BlackMist, Tao Shui (you might be surprised!), ka_chan, KaT aka Mistress Shinigami, Kat-Tastrophe, animefreak5483 (*blushes* thank you!), MarliCat2007 (yikes! Don't want to get you mad _), SimplyTurquoise, Bunny, Water Lily, itsdarkoutside, Pia Bartolini, Rhiannon, PriestessKali, Stacy, Kay, sweetangel, fluffy-chan, susan, dracoinifinity, Ria, Wing (LOL, not sure that this chapter will address all your concerns but hopefully it will help a little ^_^), and Morrighan of Crimson and Sable (*clamps hand over Morrighan's mouth* Don't you dare tell! ^_^)  
  
Not much more to go now; three more after this one. Im off on holiday this Friday for a week so if you all want I can try and post the last three chapters before I go ^_^ Please let me know what you think of this chapter, your feedback is always very appreciated.  
  
Cheers, kmf  
  
Cynehelme  
  
by kmf  
  
Warnings: AU, language, non graphic attempted rape Rating: PG13 Standard Disclaimer applies  
  
Chapter Twenty  
  
"Idiot!"  
  
Duo yelled out the word as his sword caught the downward blow from a Lindsay soldier, which had been aimed directly at Heero's head. With effort he twisted the blade away, his plaited hair swinging behind him like a banner. The enemy grunted and slid from his horse to the ground, before getting to his feet and frantically trying to catch the reins of his horse. Failing to do so, he watched his mount canter away from the battle before he stumbled back a few paces holding his sword out in front of himself. Duo smirked and urged his horse forward to engage him once again; a foot solider facing a mounted soldier was as good as dead.  
  
Heero frowned, tearing his gaze from the silhouetted figures up on the hill back to the battle, his eyes quickly assessing the proximity of the enemies in front of him. It was true that he had been careless; distracted by the sudden revelation that Relena was here. If Duo had not been watching out for him, he would have been dead. Distraction was deadly on the battlefield.  
  
Duo shook the fresh blood from his blade and wheeled his horse to bring it to Heero's side, his face wet with blood and sweat and his breathing coming slightly fast, but his eyes bright with the joy of battle. Heero turned again and looked at the figures. Cloaked they could be anyone, but Heero's gut feeling told him differently.  
  
"...Relena.." he murmured again, watching as one frantically waved, only to be dragged out of sight by the others.  
  
"Relena?" Duo repeated, following Heero's gaze and frowning, "How could she be here?"  
  
Movement in Heero's peripheral vision caused him to turn his head to his rear. His heart missed a beat as he saw a fresh warband bearing down on them; row upon row of mounted men, swords gleaming bright and fresh in the sunlight. For a moment Heero thought that Treize had sent a pincer movement of men to attack them, splitting his force into two to trap the Mercian's between them. But then he saw the banner fluttering proudly before the fresh men.  
  
..Wessex.  
  
He scowled wondering just how Wessex came to be in Mercia. Their two countries had never been overly friendly, but neither had they been unfriendly. He could only assume that word had travelled to Wessex that the High King's throne was for the taking. They were here for Relena, just as Treize was. And if Wessex and Lindsey were here, then how soon before Essex, Sussex or Anglia came?  
  
Heero pulled the reins of his horse causing it to prance up, hoofs kicking up sods of earth and pointed his sword towards the newcomers.  
  
"Behind!" Heero yelled warning his men, and heard Duo curse fluently at their situation.  
  
Was Wessex here to aid Lindsey? Or would they aid Mercia? More likely the battle was to become a free for all, each faction interested only in promoting their own interests.  
  
Heero looked once more to the ridge. That had been Relena, he was sure. His mind raced trying to determine what she was doing out of the villa; had it been attacked? Had she been kidnapped? Or was she running away from him and his father? Was she trying to go to Treize?  
  
He snarled trying to empty his mind of his thoughts of Relena, instead calling out directing his warband to wheel around and face the newcomers. Odin, approving of his move, continued to face Lindsey with his own warriors.  
  
Heero wanted more than anything to go after Relena, but he could not abandon his fellow men in battle. Charging his horse forward, he flew towards the men of Wessex, his eyes fiery, yelling his battle cry. He would make sure that this battle was finished with as soon as possible, then he would follow her and bring her back to where she belonged.  
  
* * *   
  
Quatre's feeling of concern was beginning to escalate the further he went from the protective walls of the villa, but he could not and would not abandon his search for Relena and her companions. He was not a tracker, but he had followed the general direction that the guard had said the women had travelled and once out of eyesight of the stronghold he had travelled the basic direction that he knew Treize to be in.  
  
He was confident that he would catch them up eventually, after all he travelled by horse whereas they travelled by foot. Unless, of course, Dorothy had managed to secret some mounts out in the woods. Quatre frowned as he pondered this. It was unlikely, no reports of missing horses had reached his ears and a horse was such a precious commodity that if one went missing then there would be an outcry.  
  
Quatre's frown deepened as he thought of Dorothy. He had made a mistake when he had failed to alert Heero to her presence within the villa. At the time he had thought that she would do little harm as Relena was so well guarded. And in addition to that he had the feeling from her aura that there was an underlying goodness about her and the possibility that she would be beneficial to the outcome of the war. Now he was not so sure; the twisting worry that wound around his soul told him that he may have been mistaken.  
  
Sounds of battle came echoing across the hills to him and Quatre gripped the unfamiliar weight of the sword that hung from his waist tightly. He was much more comfortable with the feeling of wood in his hand rather than the feel of steel, but he was realistic enough to know that wood would not protect him, nor would it protect Relena should he locate her. He missed the reassuring presence of Rashid at his side, but had felt that this whole mess was his responsibility and he would not drag his faithful servant into it; rather he would face it on his own.  
  
A sudden cry of alarm from a woman made Quatre pull his horse up and listen carefully.  
  
"Heero!" The cry came again.  
  
That was definitely Relena, and she was disturbingly close to the battle. Urging his horse forward, Quatre rode swiftly ignoring the low branches that pulled at his clothes and tore at his hair. His heart beat swiftly as his eyes carefully scanned the surrounding countryside as he rode.  
  
Finally he saw her ahead a little, being pulled, no dragged, by Dorothy who was still disguised as a boy. Behind her came the nun and the servant with her child, both looking behind them with concern upon their faces. Quatre pulled his horse up and jumped down to the ground, stumbling forward a little as he encountered uneven ground.  
  
All four women stood still as they saw him, surprise etched upon all their faces. Dorothy stopped pulling, and Relena stopped resisting, their eyes wide. Dorothy was the first to move, her hand going to her chest to dramatically clutch her heart.  
  
"Ah, Gods! For a moment I thought that it might have been someone dangerous," she said sarcastically, "But it is only the druid."  
  
Quatre's eyes narrowed and he tried to school his features into something that resembled a stern expression. "Relena does not belong to you," he said firmly, "Let her go!"  
  
Dorothy rolled her eyes.  
  
"The number of times I have heard that of late is disturbing," she said, "I am sure that you are here on the misguided thought that she has been kidnapped. However, I assure you, she has come with me completely of her own free will."  
  
Quatre looked towards Relena trying to ascertain whether or not Dorothy was telling the truth. By the way Relena bowed her head and looked uncomfortable in the druid's presence it was probably true. He made to walk towards her, but Dorothy unsheathed her sword and held it out in front of her, her empty hand spread out in a silent gesture of denial.  
  
"Why?" Quatre asked, directing his question to Relena.  
  
"Because this way people will not die on my account," she replied holding her head up and staring at him with her clear blue eyes, "This way there will be peace."  
  
Quatre shook his head, "Do not believe that just by aligning yourself to Treize this war will be over," he said.  
  
Dorothy snorted in disgust. "Don't listen to him!" she directed Relena.  
  
Quatre ignored Dorothy and continued to appeal to Relena. "Treize will continue to attack Mercia even if you are with him. Mercia has opposed him and he will think that we must be punished for that transgression."  
  
"Shut up Druid!" Dorothy advanced, her sword held out before her.  
  
"Relena -" Quatre tried to continue to speak to her but Dorothy firmly placed herself in front of the Druid cutting off Relena from his line of sight.  
  
Without turning her head from Quatre, Dorothy addressed her companions. "Keep walking east. I will join you once I have finished discussing this matter with the Druid," she said, her mouth turning up into a small smile and her grip on her sword tightening.  
  
"I will not fight you," Quatre said quietly watching her aura flare with excitement.  
  
"Because I'm a woman?" she drawled, "Well, normally I would not fight priests either. How about this time we both make an exception to our rules."  
  
She lunged forward making Quatre step back a pace to evade her, his hand pulling his sword free from its scabbard, its blade rising swiftly to parry her stroke. Dorothy's eyes widened at the swiftness of his move and Quatre could not resist smirking a little.  
  
"Just because I am a Druid does not mean that I don't know how to fight," he said.  
  
Dorothy's grin widened to show off her perfectly straight white teeth.  
  
"What a delightful surprise," she said  
  
* * * *   
  
Relena hesitated for a moment, then hurried away followed by Sally and Noin. Quatre's words pained her but they did not weaken her resolve to give herself to Treize to ensure peace. What she was doing was correct, of that she was sure. And if it proved not to be so then she would deal with it. She would negotiate with Treize, beg if she needed to. She would do anything to save innocent lives, including prostituting herself if necessary.  
  
She only hoped that Quatre would not pay too dearly for his interference in her plans; Dorothy's laughter had chilled her. She had obviously been excited by Quatre's challenge and Relena knew from bitter experience that Dorothy would stop at nothing to achieve what she wanted. Relena could not help but rub her head where Dorothy had struck her. Hopefully Quatre would come off as lightly.  
  
Sally and Noin spared no thought for the Druid, instead they concentrated on what was in front of them. Keeping the sounds of battle to their right, they pressed forward in the direction that Dorothy had instructed them to. All three moved as fast and as quietly as they could.  
  
As time passed by and Dorothy still did not rejoin them, Relena began to feel anxious; what if they had not travelled in the correct direction? The trees and terrain made it difficult to travel in a straight line. It was possible that they had turned to one side or another. What if they stumbled into the Mercian camp rather than the Lindsey camp that they were aiming for?  
  
Stopping, she looked about her and was about to express her concerns when suddenly a man appeared before her. He held a sword out towards her, his eyes narrowed and threatening. Then four more came out from the brush in which they were hiding. Sally grasped hold of Relena's arm and hissed in her ear.  
  
"Lindsey men! I recognise them!"  
  
Both Noin and Sally moved close to Relena, whilst Relena held up her hands in a show that she meant no harm.  
  
"Well, well, well," one of the men murmured, "If it isn't the nun come back to play."  
  
Relena did not like the look in the man's eyes; there was a predatory gleam contained there as he gazed at the nun, his tongue moistening his lips. She moved forward a few steps.  
  
"I am Relena Peacecraft," she said clearly, her voice stronger than she ever thought possible given that she was actually feeling very nervous, "I wish to see King Treize Kushrinada."  
  
The man tore his eyes from Sally to Relena as she gave voice to her name and he grinned.  
  
"So, you are what this war is all about," he grunted a laugh looking at his companions, "Rest assured that we will take you to Treize just as soon as we have finished dealing with this bitch spy."  
  
He grabbed hold of Sally by her shoulder and shoved her backwards. Not expecting such treatment she fell back looking up at her assailant with surprise in her eyes. Relena watched stunned, then made to help Sally to her feet but another of the men pulled her away.  
  
"What do you think you are doing?" she demanded struggling against his grip. "I said that we should be taken to Treize Kushrinada!"  
  
The first man sheathed his sword never taking his eyes from Sally. "Oh, I will take you to the King soon," he said, "But first we have some business to conduct with the spy here. Treize gave orders for her to be killed, but I think that we should have some enjoyment from her first".  
  
Sally's eyes narrowed and she scrambled backwards, but the man moved quickly and threw himself across her pinning her down. Undaunted Sally started using her fists against him, boxing him across his head and ears. He growled and hit her back stunning her for a moment. As she lay her eyes glassy from the blow he started to push her skirts up positioning himself between her legs.  
  
Relena let out a cry of rage and kicked at the man that was restraining her, connecting with his shin. Automatically he let go of her as he gave out a strangled cry, his hands nursing his injured limb. Relena ran forward and pulled Sally's attacker's jerkin trying to drag him off the nun.  
  
"Stop it!" she cried out, before grabbing his hair and pulling on that.  
  
He grunted with irritation and pain and was forced to move off Sally. Sally, regaining her senses, kicked up at him her foot connecting with his groin. The man collapsed, rolling to one side huddled up in a fetal postion nursing his injured manhood.  
  
"Bitch!" he snarled, pushing himself up onto his knees and looking at Sally with hate in his eyes. "Hold her down!" he ordered his companions, "I'm going to teach her a lesson she will never forget!"  
  
Relena had helped Sally to her feet and looked around in despair. She, Sally and Noin could not fight them off on their own. Was it to be that her decision to go to Treize was going to cause Sally's defilement and death? She gripped onto the nun's arm tightly as several of the men approached.  
  
"What are you doing?"  
  
Relena turned in the direction of the voice and saw that another warrior had arrived, his features dark and foreign.  
  
"....Wufei...." Sally murmured looking towards the man, "Another of Treize's men."  
  
"We are doing as Treize ordered!" Sally's attacker looked less than pleased at the arrival of Wufei, but stood his ground.  
  
Wufei jogged forward positioning himself between his men and the three women, not sparing the girls more than a momentary glance. "Did Treize order you to rape?" he frowned, "I do not recall that order."  
  
Relena sensed that their salvation might be in Wufei's hands and cleared her throat to speak.  
  
"I am Relena Peacecraft," she said, "I and my companions have come to meet with Treize Kushrinada."  
  
"The bitch is a spy!" the attacker interrupted, "She escaped and is leading Mercia to us! She deserves to be punished!"  
  
Wufei's head tilted and he looked around. "I cannot see Mercia. All I see are three women and a baby. All I see is the nun leading the woman that Treize most wants to have in his possession to him. All I see is an animal wanting to satisfy a base urge."  
  
The attacker snarled and pulled out his sword, but Wufei was faster, parried the blow and knocked the man's sword away with a twist of his wrist. Holding his blade to the man's throat Wufei's eyes narrowed. "I will not allow you to," he said before lowering his sword, "Get back to the camp, I will deal with you later."  
  
The man backed up a few paces and picked up his sword. Sheathing it he looked towards Wufei with disdain on his face. "You can try!", he said, "I will not be punished by one of Treize's slaves. When Treize hears that you protected that bitch," he gestured towards Sally, "I am sure that you'll be back in chains and back in his slave pens."  
  
Wufei's eyes narrowed even further at this and his grip tightened on his sword. "Treize does not deal in slaves," he said quietly,  
  
The man turned laughing as he went.  
  
"No, of course not Slave."  
  
* * * * *  
  
The battle raged on, both Lindsey and Wessex pushing against the Mercian flanks in an effort to crush them. And it would have worked too, Heero thought, apart from the fact that Lindsey and Wessex were not allies in this battle. Instead of pursuing the Mercian warband until they were no more, Wessex and Lindsey began to fight each other freeing the Mercians from their grip.  
  
Regrouping their forces once more, Heero and Odin came together both breathing heavily and sweating from their efforts. Odin's forehead was smeared with blood, but he sat firm in his saddle. As he wiped his face with the sleeve Heero saw that it was not his own and he imagined that his own face was probably splatted with the a similar amount of gore.  
  
"You are distracted," Odin commented as quiet as he could so that he would not be overheard, but loud enough for Heero to hear over the battle.  
  
Heero frowned. It was true, he was distracted. And several times he had come close to paying the ultimate price for that distraction. He gestured towards the ridge.  
  
"I think I saw Relena," Heero said his eyes scanning the landscape for any sign of the figures he had seen earlier.  
  
Odin eyes followed his son's gesture and he frowned. "Think?" he asked, "How could it be that she is here?"  
  
Heero shook his head, "I do not know how and I do not know why," he said, "But I do know that it was her." He stared at his father as if daring him to argue.  
  
Odin looked back towards the battle assessing the number of men he had left in his ranks before turning back to his son. He frowned considering his options before making a decision.  
  
"Take Duo and Trowa," he instructed his eyes narrowed, "Go and find her and return her to the Villa."  
  
Heero scowled. He was pleased that his father believed him without question; Duo had been sceptical at best. But to be ordered away from the battle was shameful. He made to protest but his father held his hand up.  
  
"You are my only son and I will not have you killed today because your head is full of a woman," Odin paused at the expression on his son's face. "Go. Look for her," he said more gently, "Relena is important to Mercia and must not be lost." He paused for a moment, before grinning broadly. "Bring back those that are responsible for her wandering feet; I would be most interested in discussing this with them."  
  
Heero nodded once, then turned his horse. Calling to Duo and Trowa to follow him he urged his mount away from the battle towards where he had caught sight of her figure silhouetted by the distance between them.  
  
Following him came his father's voice carried to Heero's ear by the wind.  
  
"Bring her back safely to me!"  
  
Heero grimaced at the words and forced his body not to react to the taunt. Unfortunately his father had an ingrained instinct about him and even though Heero was sure his body language did not give away his discomfort, his father's laugh echoed in Heero's ears as he rode.  
  
"What is going on?" Duo demanded, "Why are we leaving the battle?" Heero said nothing, his eyes upon the ridge, and Duo rolled his eyes, "You still think that you saw Relena?" he exclaimed.  
  
Heero refused to answer, glancing only once at his companions as they rode. Duo, like himself, looked battle weary. He sported a cut on his cheek, evidence that he had allowed a spear to get a trifle too close. Trowa, on the other hand, looked neat and fresh. No blood clung to his face or clothes and yet Heero knew that Trowa had been in the centre of the fight, protecting his King. Trowa's bloody sword gave evidence that he had killed more than one man. Heero wondered fleetingly just how it was that he managed to keep so neat in battle.  
  
Gaining the top of the ridge, Heero slid down from his horse and looked back towards the battle. Lindsey and Wessex were now exchanging blows, any pretext of an organised battle plan lost. It was a free for all, with Mercia picking at the fringes. He looked towards the sun, which was low in sky. There would be no winner or loser of today's battle; at the setting of the sun the fighting would end and each warband would recover its lost members.  
  
Mercia would return to the villa stronghold, whilst Wessex and Lindsey would return to their own presumably fortified camps. If the weather held then tomorrow it would all begin again. Perhaps with other nations joining the fray.  
  
Turning his back on the battle Heero examined his surroundings. Crouching he allowed his fingers to touch the ground. There were signs that people had recently stood here; the earth was scuffed in places. Trowa had dismounted too and was looking towards the east.  
  
"This way," he pointed into the trees picking up the tracks of those they pursued.  
  
Heero nodded and took hold of the reins of his horse, leading the animal forward. He quickly perceived the trail that Trowa had detected and followed it eager to locate Relena as soon as possible and take her back to where she belonged.  
  
Or where he wanted her to belong. With him in his villa. However at the moment he allowed himself to think those thoughts, Odin's voice echoed in his head reminding him of his father's parting words.  
  
"...bring her back safely to me..."  
  
Heero shook his head trying to ignore the words. A request from his father or an order from his King, either way it was a command that he could not ignore. Or could he?  
  
A startled cry from Trowa brought Heero's attention back to the current situation. A little further along, beside a horse tethered to a tree, sat a figure hunched over, hair bright and golden in the dullness of the afternoon light. For a moment Heero thought that it was Relena, but then he focused on the white robes that the figure wore.  
  
"Quatre!" Duo exclaimed, dropping the reins of his horse and rushing forward to the fallen Druid.  
  
Trowa and Heero followed on his heels, their eyes alert for danger and the presence of anyone else in the little glade. Quatre looked up at their approach and struggled to his feet. His hand held his side tightly and Heero could see that blood bloomed through his fingers and stained his robes.  
  
Quatre smiled apologetically at Heero whilst accepting the helping arm of Trowa to support him as he stood.  
  
"I'm sorry, Heero," he said softly, "I tried to stop her, tried to bring her back, but I failed. I should have told you about Dorothy."  
  
Duo crouched before the Druid and prised Quatre's fingers away from the wound so that he could better assess it. Fresh blood welled up and spilled forth and Quatre replaced his hand on the wound once more, his face twisting with the pain it caused him. Duo grimaced too as he tore a strip of material from his cloak, folding it into a pad and handing it to the wounded druid who pressed it over his wound.  
  
Heero watched silently until Duo had bound another strip of material around Quatre's waist to hold the pad in place, his face stern from the moment he had heard the name Dorothy. Crouching in front of his Druid he frowned.  
  
"How long ago?" he questioned.  
  
Quatre bowed his head unable to look his prince in the eye. "An hour...maybe two.." he trailed off, his voice despondent, "I do not know for sure, I think I passed out after losing to Dorothy."  
  
Heero stood and surveyed around him, his hand gripping the pommel of his sword tightly. "Duo, take Quatre back to the villa, have Catherine tend him," he said before nodding to Trowa, "We will go on."  
  
Trowa bent to help Quatre to his feet, half supporting the Druid's weight as he helped him over to his horse. Quatre hesitated at his horse and turned to Heero ignoring the discomfort that the movement gave him.  
  
"Relena was willing to go with Dorothy," he said weakly, "She did because she thought it would bring peace, that she would save lives."  
  
Heero climbed up onto his horse. Urging it forward a few paces he gazed down at Quatre. "Her notion that she can bring peace by giving herself to Kushrinada is a misguided one," he said firmly, "I will not allow it."  
  
Quatre clambered up into his own saddle aided by Trowa who gave him a leg up. Once settled and freeing his mind of the dizziness that had almost overcome him, he gazed at Heero, dread overwhelming him.  
  
"Heero, what do you plan to do?" he questioned. "What if she refuses to listen to you?"  
  
"I will do what must be done," Heero said quietly. 


	21. Chapter 21

AN: Thanks to all who read and reviewed the last chapter. Thanks to ka_chan, sweetangel, LK, Jewls, ice eyes, susan, Pia Bartolini, ^.^Cat, SimplyTurquoise, Wing (love your review hon! Hopefully this chapter will answer some of your questions), MarliCat2007, Tao Shui, Kat-Tastrophe, Kay, KaT aka Mistress Shinigami, Water Lily, and Mama-Sama.  
  
Darth - I did find your first comments a little disconcerting. If you do find Relena to be a 'stupid bitch' in this fic, then perhaps this fic isnt one you should continue to read. I am not sure whether your comment was supposed to be a flame or not. But if you don't like the story, then please don't force yourself to read it. ^_^  
  
Special thanks go out to Iris Anthe who beta read this story for me. And here to is a shameless plug for another fic: Maids of Silva by Happily Ever After (Iris Anthe, Goldberry and myself). It has recently been updated after a bit of a break (we had some concerns with regard to plot and the flow of the story). Please go and take a look and let us know what you think ^_^  
  
Cheers!  
  
Cynehelme  
  
by kmf  
  
Rating: PG13 Warnings: AU Standard Disclaimer applies.  
  
Chapter Twenty One  
  
Wufei led the women to Treize's camp as quickly as he could given all three women were weary. The Peacecraft heir supported Sally as they walked, her arm holding the nun firmly around her waist whilst Sally draped an arm over the girls shoulder. Sally's face was pale, the shock of nearly being violated hanging over her and as much as Wufei would have liked to have reassured the woman that she was safe now, he was not sure that was true.  
  
Treize had said when Trowa and Sally had escaped taking Une with them that their lives were forfeit. However, Sally had returned bringing the prize that Treize so eagerly sought and Wufei hoped that would bring the woman clemency from his Lord. If it did not then it might be that Wufei's own sword would drink her blood today. If he was ordered to execute her, then at least he would make her end swift and pain free, unlike the savages he had fought off her.  
  
Wufei frowned again as he remembered the men's parting words.  
  
..."When Treize hears that you protected that bitch, I am sure that you be back in chains and back in his slave pens."....  
  
Treize had told Wufei on a number of occasions that he abhorred the slave trade and had declared that he would do everything in his power to abolish the practice in the British Isle once he was High King. Wufei wanted to believe that the comment from the warrior was a passing barb, one designed to throw Wufei off his stride but one with no element of truth behind it. The look on the man's face had been one of maliciousness, but there was a confidence there too that showed that the man was sure that he would not be punished for his deeds towards Sally nor the fact that he was insolent to a superior officer.  
  
And it worried Wufei. Could what the man said be true? Could Treize be active in the slave trade? Could it be that the pretty speeches given to Wufei were designed to put him at his ease so that Treize could reap the benefit of Wufei's fighting and tracking skills?  
  
"Wait! You go too fast!"  
  
Wufei almost stumbled at Sally's voice calling to him and he stopped and turned to observe his charges. From the distance they were from him he realised that he must have almost been jogging in his eagerness to get back to camp and confront Treize. As he stood still waiting for the women to catch him up, only years of training prevented him from fidgeting at their slowness.  
  
Sally's colour had improved a little, she was leaning less heavily on Relena, her eyes were beginning to regain some of their former sparkle. He turned away from her gaze uneasy with the intelligent life that shone from her eyes; in another hour or two he might be responsible for extinguishing that life forever.  
  
"Why did you come back?" he murmured before he could stop himself. He turned and took her by the shoulders and shook her slightly pulling her away from Relena's supportive hold.  
  
Sally allowed herself to be shaken, whilst the other two women protested loudly demanding that he stop. He only had ears for Sally though and ignored them.  
  
"Why?" he demanded again. "I cannot protect you if Treize orders your death."  
  
"That is in God's hands," Sally said serenely.  
  
Wufei snorted in disgust and let her go and Relena pushed herself between him and Sally, her face frowning and her hands on her hips.  
  
"I will not allow you to harm her," she said with determination, "and I will not allow Treize to hurt her. If Treize wishes for me to co-operate with him he will do no harm to my friends."  
  
Wufei looked down at the small women who stood in front of him, his expression one of slight bemusement. He raised an eyebrow as she stared up at him with determination in her eyes. Despite himself he felt a grudging respect for this young woman who was willing to give herself for the sake of peace to the man who had in effect killed her father. She was protective of those who followed her as any leader should be, but he wondered just how much attention Treize would pay to her demands. Once Relena Peacecraft was in Treize's hands she would be, in effect, his possession and any requests that she had would only be granted at his whim.  
  
He shrugged and turned, not looking to see whether the three women followed, and began to walk towards the camp again, this time more slowly. Sally's fate, what ever it was to be, was out of his hands.  
  
* * * *  
  
Dorothy made her way through the woods as quickly as she could, her only thought to put as much distance between herself and the Druid as possible. Even the thought of catching up Relena, Sally and Noin did not make her legs move as fast as the thought of Quatre's pained expression as her blade cut into his flesh.  
  
He had been a worthy opponent, his swordsmanship quick and clever. And it had seemed that he had gotten as much pleasure out of their duel as she had; at first that was. However, the initial exuberance of discovering that the Druid had skill had worn off when she had discovered that he was unwilling to use it against her.  
  
She would attack and he would parry. But instead of attacking her, he had kept trying to talk to her. At first his quiet questions about why she was doing this and what she hoped to achieve had amused her and she had answered honestly: power, position and the redeeming of her family name. His expression had turned sad at these answers and he had questioned her as to how she thought her actions would effect the ordinary men and women of both Mercia and Lindsey.  
  
She had laughed, but that laughter had turned to ashes in her mouth as she saw his expressive sad eyes once again look at her. No, not at her; into her, peeling back the layers of her disguise and peering into her very soul itself. And what disgusted her the most was the fact that she was ashamed of what he saw and that she wanted to change so that instead of sadness in his eyes there would be respect and understanding.  
  
She had flinched from this sudden revelation and had almost dropped her sword in her surprise and for a moment Quatre's eyes had brightened and he had lowered his guard. But in that split second she reacted as she had been trained to do; she had taken advantage of his weakness. Her sword arm had flicked out and this time it met no metal resistance. Instead it had slid deep into Quatre's side, its shiny blade dimmed by the quick flow of his blood from his wound.  
  
For a moment they had stood still, regarding each other. Dorothy was still not sure which of them had been more surprised by the hit. And then Quatre had fallen back, his body sliding off the sword, his hand coming instinctively to his wound before his legs failed to support him and he fell to his knees. All the time he kept his eyes in contact with hers, looking at her with such overwhelming sadness and forgiveness.  
  
Dorothy had not been able to endure the look he gave her, and had turned and run away from him. As she did so she had heard his voice calling her name with his failing strength before the woods became silent once again. And as she ran she felt moisture come to her eyes: tears. She had not cried since her grandfather had died, she had sworn that never again would she cry. And yet, as she ran, she cried for the man who was her enemy and whom she had probably killed.  
  
* * * *  
  
Scouts returning on horseback from the battle were the first to report to Treize that other nations had joined the fray. It took all Millardo's training not to grin in outright pleasure that his plan was working. Instead he kept his face neutral as he watched Treize digest the news.  
  
"How many and from where?" he demanded, his voice calm but his distinctive brows drawn into a frown.  
  
His frown deepened as he received the full report, and at his side his Shaman became quite agitated, smoothing her hair back behind her ears and glaring at the men as if she held them personally responsible for the turn of events. Treize made no comment to the reporting soldiers, instead he turned to Millardo.  
  
"It seems that you have been telling me the truth," Treize said, "Although I would be interested in discovering just how you came by your information."  
  
Millardo raised an eyebrow. "I am a traveller, I collect information as I go," he said, "And I find battle fascinating. I am interested to see how you react to this turn of events," he nodded towards the men in the camp, "as are, I suspect, your remaining warriors."  
  
Treize did not spare a glance at the men but remained staring at Millardo, his eyes narrowed and considering. Une watched him closely too and Millardo began to feel uncomfortable with their dual gazes. Then Treize's gaze flicked behind Millardo as sounds of disgruntled mutterings of more scouts arriving back could be heard.  
  
Millardo could not resist taunting Treize a little more "It seems that your men are not entirely happy with the situation they are in."  
  
Treize called over to the men who had just returned. "You there! Report!" he demanded.  
  
But before they could utter a word another group entered the camp. The mutterings of the men stopped as they all observed Wufei lead three women towards Treize. Millardo felt his mouth go dry as he saw one was Lucrezia carrying their son close to her chest in a protective stance.  
  
She stood tall and proud, her eyes flickering over the men in the camp assessing numbers and potential dangers. When her eyes met his they widened slightly, then moved on quickly. He felt pride that she was collected enough not to give any sign that she knew him although he knew that her mind must be reeling with the shock of finding him here. As was his at finding her led to Treize's camp rather than safe and secure in Heero Yuy's stronghold.  
  
Millardo forced his own eyes away from her with difficulty. After their time apart he wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and touch her, comfort her and make her safe. He wanted to demand of her just what in the hell she was doing here, what had happened to make her disregard his orders to remain in the villa. Instead he stared at Wufei feeling hate well inside him that this man dared to bring his wife into such danger.  
  
"Treize, this woman wants to meet with you," Wufei said, gesturing behind him.  
  
So preoccupied was he with finding his wife suddenly come to the camp he had ignored the other women in the party. Millardo almost swore out loud as he looked behind Wufei to see his sister standing there. And now he knew why his wife had left the stronghold; Lucrezia had followed Relena straight to the murderer of their father.  
  
Relena pushed back the hood of her cloak and stood as tall as her slight height would allow. She gazed at Treize calmly before speaking in a clear and strong voice.  
  
"I am Relena Peacecraft," she said, "I believe that you have been searching for me."  
  
Treize's look of surprise was mirrored by his Shaman. He recovered quickly and walked up to the girl, cupping her chin with his hand he tilted her head to the left and right examining her closely, before he grinned broadly.  
  
"Indeed I have," he replied, "Indeed I have."  
  
The Shaman's look of surprise turned to a look of dazed confusion as Treize continued to examine Relena pushing back her cloak to look at her figure, running his hand through her hair, before lifting her hand to his mouth and kissing it.  
  
Millardo clenched his fists in anger. Watching Treize assess his sister as if she was a slave for sale almost pushed him over the edge. However, he knew just how much danger all of them were in at this moment; warbands from surrounding Kingdoms were about to bear down on them. There was little or no protection for them out in the open, it was important that he get Relena, Lucrezia and the babe as far away as possible as quickly as possible. If he did not there was every chance of him witnessing the slaughter of the remainder of his family.  
  
Why were they here? What was Relena thinking of? Why had Heero let her go? Millardo frowned thinking of the Mercian Prince.  
  
Heero Yuy had once again demonstrated his inability to protect Relena and for this Millardo would never forgive him. If by some miracle he was able to get Relena and Noin out of Treize's clutches, he would take them both far away where they would all be safe as a family.  
  
Millardo silently swore an oath that Heero Yuy would never be allowed to have possession of Relena again.  
  
* * * *  
  
"I am Relena Peacecraft. I believe you have been looking for me."  
  
The words tumbled out of her mouth sounding confidant and assured. Inside, however, Relena felt sick to her stomach as she looked at the man who she was giving herself to in the name of peace.  
  
Treize Kushrinada was an elegant man, tall and well built. His clothes were clean and neat in direct comparison to those mudsplattered men who served under him. His hair was fair and tied back in a small thong at the base of his skull. Relena had to admit to herself that he was very good looking. But he was a little too neat. She could not help but think that he would look so much better if his hair was a little less tidy and perhaps a little darker and if his eyes were a dark stormy blue.  
  
He moved towards her smiling broadly. "Indeed I have, indeed I have," he said reaching out and touching her face, tilting it up so that she had to look him at him directly.  
  
His hand was icy cold and it made shiver. There seemed to be no warmth about this man at all, even his eyes were cold despite the smile on his face. She almost sighed in relief as he released her, only to stiffen again as he pulled open her cloak and inspected her body.  
  
Relena felt mortified by the inspection, but stood her ground as he walked around her touching her hair as if he was assessing whether she was a suitable purchase. She looked away from Treize trying to ignore what he was doing and found herself looking at Wufei. The warrior was starring at Treize with a look of outrage on his face as if he too could not believe that Treize would assess Relena like she was livestock.  
  
Finally Treize stood before her once again. He reached down and grasped her hand pulling it up to his cold lips and kissed her.  
  
Apparently he found her acceptable.  
  
Relena frowned a little and resisted the urge to pull her hand away from his mouth and wipe it on her dress. Instead, when he had released her, she folded her hands neatly in front of her. She watched as his gaze flicked to her two companions. His eyes narrowed a little as he saw Sally and immediately Relena spoke.  
  
"I am willing to wed you and grant you the High Kings throne but only on two conditions."  
  
Treize looked back at her, his eyebrow rising.  
  
"Conditions?" he said softly, "Do you think you are in a position to demand conditions?"  
  
Relena clenched her hands together tightly, but continued. "You will withdraw from Mercia immediately and cease this war. And you will not harm my companions."  
  
Again Treize glanced at Sally who stared back at him coldly. Turning back to Relena he questioned her again.  
  
"Why do you think you are in a position to demand conditions? You have come unguarded into my camp. There is nothing to stop me taking both you and Mercia."  
  
Relena could not help but frown. "I have been told that you are a man of honour," she said feeling all control of the situation slipping from her fingers, "Your cousin-" she was interrupted by his laugh.  
  
"Ah, Dorothy!" he exclaimed, "That explains it." He looked around the camp, "So where is the brat?" he asked.  
  
"...she follows..." Relena murmured feeling more and more out of her depth.  
  
She looked about herself trying to regain her bearings. Beside Treize stood a woman, a holy woman by the look of the symbols she carried around her neck. Relena instantly thought of Quatre and fleetingly wondered if he was alright before pondering whether this woman could be her ally and friend as Quatre had been.  
  
The woman, however, looked dazed and unhappy. She was staring at Treize with a strange longing in her eyes and Relena wondered if she loved him. If so then she would look upon Relena as competition and Relena knew that she would find no help from her.  
  
Wufei stood back, his arms crossed and his face lowered. He did not look at anything other than his feet and Relena wondered what he was thinking. His earlier anger seemed to have disappeared and he was now ignoring the whole proceedings. As much as Sally seemed to trust the warrior, Relena thought that she would receive little help from him.  
  
The other men all seemed to be leering at her, laughing at their good fortune at having captured the Peacecraft heir without themselves going into battle. Relena's eyes darted around the camp wondering if she would be able to appeal to any that where there. And then her eyes alighted on a tall blond man who stood completely still and was staring directly at her.  
  
For a moment she thought that she must be dreaming, and she resisted her inclination to rub her eyes. After blinking a couple of times and finding that his image did not melt away she realised that Zechs Marquis was indeed standing before her. Her eyes widened and she was about to call out his name when she realised that he was watching her with a cold warning look in his eyes.  
  
A flurry of thoughts raced through her mind. Why was he there? Was he a captive? The warriors around him did not seem to be guarding him; they paid him little attention. So in all probability he was not a captive, but rather he was their ally. And if he was working with Treize, Relena doubted that he would aid her either. She felt a peculiar disappointment well up in her throat as she concluded that Zechs would not be her rescuer this time.  
  
Relena turned back to Treize. It was up to her to get herself and her companions out of this mess.  
  
"I will give myself to you only on those two condition," she repeated. "If you do not agree, I will leave."  
  
Treize laughed out loud, but Relena ignored him and continued.  
  
"If you do not permit me to leave, I will make it known to the other Kings and the church that you have forced me into marriage. Whilst the Kings might tolerate this, the church will not. Lindsey is, I believe, predominately Christian despite you following other religions," she gestured towards the Holy woman at Treize's side. "I am sure that your income is enhanced by agreements with Rome. If it came to their knowledge that you forced a nun to wed..." she trailed off watching him closely.  
  
Relena was not sure that Lindsey had agreements with the church, but it seemed likely given Lindsey was both a mixture of Pagan and Christian beliefs. And by the way Treize's eyes narrowed slightly, she felt sure that she had guessed correctly.  
  
Before he could reply there came a sudden warning cry, cut off abruptly. All eyes turned to the boundary of the camp where another shout of alarm took up after the first. The warriors as one all grasped the pommels of their swords, a few moving forward towards where the warning cries came from.  
  
Relena felt her arm being grasped by Treize's hand and she was pulled back closer to him. Glancing up at him, she saw that his eyes were narrowed and alert and he scanned the edge of their camp for movement.  
  
"It seems that this interesting discussion will have to be continued later on," he said, pushing her behind him. He pulled his own sword out and moved a couple of paces forward.  
  
Movement could be seen around the circumference of the camp, and Relena realised that they had been surrounded. For a moment, her heart leapt as she thought of Heero's reaction to finding her in the midst of battle, but then as the first of the attacking warriors cleared the trees she realised her mistake.  
  
These were not Mercians; their hair was cropped short to their heads, and their tunics were made of animal skins. Their shields were circular with a large brass boss in the centre, which shone brightly. Relena did not know from which region they came, but it was suddenly apparent to her that not only Mercia and Linsey were fighting over her.  
  
She felt her arm being taken again and looked up to see that Zechs Marquis was at her side holding her close, his other hand firmly grasped by Noin who clutched her baby close and looked about her warily. He watched as the Lindsey warriors took up their battle cry and launched themselves at their attackers, Treize fighting along side his men. Relena expected Zechs to follow suit, but instead found that he was pulling her towards the right where the battle was less intense.  
  
"What in God's name is going on?" Sally's strained voice came from behind. "Why is Sussex here?"  
  
"They all seek the prize," Zechs murmured, "Although they will not get it. All they will get is a lesson in the futility of war."  
  
Relena felt her stomach turn. She was the prize, and Kings were willing to sacrifice the lives of their men to gain her.  
  
Zechs let go of her and Noin and drew forth his own sword. Before them Lindsey and Sussex traded blows. Zechs strode forth, swinging his sword biting deep into the back of a Sussex man. His Lindsey opponent grinned his thanks before he too was pierced by Zech's weapon.  
  
Relena held a hand up to her mouth as she watched Zechs hack at all those who stood in his path regardless of which side they fought for. By his actions it was clear to Relena that Zechs was not affiliated with Treize despite her earlier conclusion. But it was equally obvious that the Lindsey warriors considered that he was one of their own. They did not guard themselves from his attacks, and each one fell with a similar look of shock permanently engraved on his face. So engrossed in their own battles, not one of them saw their death approach in the form of Zechs until it was too late.  
  
Bile rose in Relena's throat as she watched him work his way forward.  
  
"He does it for us!" Noin said softly, her voice slightly unsteady as if she was not sure of her own statement. "He does it to give us freedom," she said again.  
  
"Well, God helps those who help themselves!" Sally muttered, brandishing a hefty looking branch of wood that she had picked up from somewhere. She looked about herself, her eyes narrowed and wary for danger. Nudging Relena and Noin forward, she exclaimed. "Follow the man! It is time that we were gone from here!"  
  
Relena could not help but agree. Her attempts to sway Treize to a peaceful conclusion to the war had failed miserably; it would have been better that she had never left the safe confines of the villa. She moved forward with the other two women, stepping over the bodies of the dying and dead, trying to ignore the groans of pain that came from bloodied lips.  
  
Bending down, Sally retrieved a sword from the lifeless fingers of one warrior, and thrust the length of wood into Relena's hands, before moving forward to get closer to where Zechs was still carving his bloody path.  
  
A hand suddenly grasping Relena around the ankle had her toppling forward onto her hands and knees. The grass about her was wet and slippery and pulling her hands up to her face she saw that they were covered in blood. Twisting around, she gasped as she saw that a prone young boy held her ankle, his skin white from blood loss, his eyes wide and full of pain.  
  
"Help me..." he whispered, blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth trailing down his chin and his grip of her ankle increasing.  
  
Relena bit her lip and moved as close to him as she could, ignoring the fact that she crawled in blood and gore. He lay on his front, his cloak over him like a blanket, his head twisted to one side, his lips moving as he continued to whisper pleas for help. Relena lifted the cloak to see if she could aide him and could not help but gasp as she saw the wound that had all but killed the lad.  
  
His side was open, and she realised that she knelt in his life's blood; there was nothing that could be done to save this boy. She reached down and stroked his hair away from his face in what she hoped was a comforting gesture. And as she did so, he breathed his last, his lips becoming motionless as his whispers stopped.  
  
Reaching down, she pulled his fingers from her ankle sniffing back tears that threatened to spill over down her cheeks. How many of the warriors lying dead around here were as young as this boy had been? How many were fighting at this very moment for the sake of a title and power that their Kings lusted after. How many more would die today?  
  
She looked up to see Zechs fell yet another man, an arc of blood trailing after his flashing sword. Had he killed this boy? Was he the one that had cut his side open? Relena got to her feet unsteadily, observing that her skirt was now red and wet, sticking to her legs. Sally was at her side, pulling on her arm urging her to move forward, whilst Noin was watching Zechs her mouth stretched in a warning cry as men from both Lindsey and Sussex advanced; both sides realising that Zechs was attacking both.  
  
Zech's face turned grimmer as he held his blade high and ready, his long blond hair streaked with the red blood of his enemies. But before he could engage those advancing on him a whoop came from the trees and two figures emerged cutting a path through the men towards where Zechs, Relena and the other women stood.  
  
Messy dark brown hair swung over cold blue eyes, lips pressed into a determined line, his sword flashing in the setting sun. Relena felt her knees go weak once again as she realised who it was.  
  
...Heero...  
  
His name slipped from her lips, soft and lost amidst the sounds of the battle, but he heard her and his eyes turned to her capturing her in his dark cold gaze. His eyes narrowed as he took in her blood covered hands and dress, and he turned back to his foe with renewed vigour, his mouth pulling into a snarl as he cut his way towards her.  
  
Beside him was Trowa, whose movements were elegant but deadly. He seemed to glide through the battle, men falling to the ground in his wake. His face was calm as he fought, glancing towards where Relena stood and moving towards her with practised ease. His calmness seemed to make Heero's fighting style even more passionate.  
  
Zechs scowled to see Heero, and fell back a few paces so that he was within arms length of Relena and Noin. As Heero approached, Zechs stood firmly in front of Relena, his mouth pulled into a sneer.  
  
Heero panted heavily from the effort of fighting and he glared back at Zechs. "Give her to me!" he demanded.  
  
Zechs pointed his sword at Heero's chest. "I warned you. You have allowed Relena to be in great danger. You have forfeited any right you had to her," he said, "She stays with me!"  
  
He walked forward a pace, and Heero lifted up his sword, hitting Zech's sword to one side with a metallic clank.  
  
"She comes with me!" Heero grated out again, as Zechs settled into a fighting stance.  
  
"You cannot have her!" Zech growled back.  
  
Relena made to move forward, but Noin pulled her back shaking her head. "Its too dangerous to come between them," she said, her own face worried and concerned as she watched the two men face each other, assessing each others strengths.  
  
"She is correct," Trowa was at her side, "But it is too dangerous to stay here," he gestured towards the tree line, "Follow me."  
  
He moved forward, picking his way over bodies. It was only when he moved forward that Relena realised that he was holding firmly onto the arm of the holy woman that had been by Treize's side only minutes earlier. The woman allowed herself to be pulled forward, her eyes dazed as they had been earlier and when Relena had first seen her.  
  
Relena followed Trowa, her eyes on Zechs and Heero as they stood staring at each other on the battlefield. Their voices carried clear to her as she moved away, terse and angry arguing over who should have possession of her. She felt herself tense at the thought that they, too, would argue over her as if she was a toy.  
  
Abruptly Zechs swung his sword at Heero, putting his weight behind the stroke. Heero blocked it, but the way he stepped back a pace betrayed the fact that Zechs had dealt a hefty blow. Before he could recover and retaliate, Zechs swung again and all Heero could do was block again, his face grimacing at the jarring the swords contact with his own blade gave to his arm.  
  
As she watched, Relena suddenly saw the features of the dead boy superimposed upon Heero's face. She imagined Zechs sword coming down past the boy's defences and cutting into his side, before pulling away slick with blood.  
  
She blinked, clearing her vision to see that it was indeed Heero before her and that he was holding his own against Zechs. Zechs was grunting as he swung his sword again and again. Relena thought back to when she had first encountered him and how she had thought of him as a romantic figure; brave, strong and honourable. Now as she watched him she could only see his blade dipping into the young boy's side; she could only see him as a killer.  
  
And this killer was fighting against Heero and had every intention of killing him. And Relena could not stand the thought. Before she knew what she was doing, she stretched out a blood covered hand in their direction.  
  
"Kill him, Heero!" she cried.  
  
Beside her, Noin and Sally froze in shock at her outburst. Trowa turned to look back at her, surprise clearly showing on his face whilst the priestess still looked blankly disinterested in anything.  
  
Zechs froze at her voice, glancing at her briefly, the disbelief clear for anyone to read on his face. Heero heard her too, the slight hesitation in the swing of his blade giving that away. And then he attacked Zechs, his strokes now offensive causing Zechs to react defensively.  
  
Noin's fingers bit into Relena's upper arm as she took a breath to shout encouragement to Heero once again. The older woman leaned close and hissed into Relena's ear.  
  
"How could you! How could you wish your own brother dead!"  
  
Relena choked. She turned to look at Noin, who stood staring at her earnestly. Relena looked at the blond man fighting now for his life, she looked back at Noin and then down at the baby strapped to her front. She felt the colour drain from her face as the epiphany of their identities suddenly came to her, crowding into her brain pushing out all other facts.  
  
Her brother was alive!  
  
"Lucrezia?" Relena whispered the word so softly that Noin would have to read her lips to understand what she said, "Lucrezia?" she repeated, not needing the confirmation Noin's swift nod gave her.  
  
Her brother was alive!  
  
He was alive, and he was fighting Heero - both were trying to kill each other.  
  
Tearing herself away from Lucrezia's grip, she ran towards the two battling men, her shawl slipping from her head, her hair flying out behind her. Both men saw her at the same time, and paused in their sword play. Heero's eyes were startled and angry as she placed herself between them, holding her arms out wide. She faced Heero and put her heart and soul into her plea.  
  
"Please stop this!" she said, turning her head slightly to see Zechs watching her with sad betrayed eyes. "I choose to be with Heero," she said, "I'm sorry.." she trailed off as Zechs shook his head.  
  
Heero snaked his arm around her waist and pulled her close to him, and she could feel his ragged breathing hot against the side of her face.  
  
"She chooses me!" he grated out to Zechs before he grabbed a fist full of her hair, pulling so her head tilted up. He bent down, capturing her lips in a crushingly hard kiss.  
  
Relena knew that he was staking a claim over her, demonstrating to the man he had fought against that she belonged to Heero and not to Zechs. She ought to have been offended, angry at being so used in the middle of a battlefield, disgusted by the way he tasted of blood and sweat. Instead a glorious warmth blossomed in the middle of Relena's abdomen the moment his lips touched hers, and intensified into waves of pure bliss as the kiss deepened. Her hands involuntarily rose, tracing the contours of his chest, fisting the material of his tunic. When she felt his tongue flick along the inside of her lower lip, the heat flared even hotter and she felt his arm hold her even more securely as her own legs threatened to give way under her.  
  
As Heero pulled his mouth away from hers, Relena found that she, too, was breathing hard and fast, her cheeks flushed and hot. His arm slid from her waist and grasped her hand, rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand in a soft circular movement, possessive and comforting. Then he spoke again, his voice assured and confidant.  
  
"She chooses me! She is mine!" 


	22. Chapter 22

Cynehelme  
  
by kmf  
  
Rating: PG13 Warnings: AU Standard Disclaimer Applies  
  
Chapter Twenty Two  
  
The timing of the Sussex army had been impressive; even if they had tried they would not have been able to pick a worse possible moment. Treize finally had in his hands Relena Peacecraft, the key to the High King's throne. He had firmly in his grasp the woman who would be able to grant him the power that he so desired.  
  
She was pretty, although Treize had always preferred his women dark not blond, she had a nice figure, although her stature was a little on the short side. She was also feisty, willing to speak her mind and make demands. Those demands had been unreasonable; Treize had no intention of stopping his siege of Mercia; the Mercian's actions demanded punishment. Nor would he allow the nun to go unpunished for taking Une away from him. But still, she showed to him in the short five minutes that she was literally in his hands that she would make an interesting Queen.  
  
But then Sussex attacked and Treize had been forced to move away from his prize and defend his rights to her.  
  
Treize was suitably annoyed that the guards had not perceived Sussex's approach, they had been more interested in eyeballing the princess and keen to see Treize's reaction to the return of the nun. He was even more annoyed that Une had not had any indication of the approach of the troops. Of late she had been next to useless as a Shaman, her contact with the spirits of nature had left her and she had been reduced to being pathetically dazed or irrationally angry. Both states caused her to lose the fear and respect that she had amongst his troops. And as they became less fearful of her, they also became less fearful of him.  
  
And so, when the fighting began, Treize found himself in command of a troop of warriors who were no longer fighting for him, but rather for themselves. And it showed; orders called out by Treize were not followed and soon the Lindsay warriors were being overwhelmed by the precise attack by Sussex.  
  
Relena had disappeared together with the nun and maid, Une stood dazed and useless in the midst of the battle and the only man who seemed to take any notice of what Treize was ordering was Wufei. And even he was looking askance at Treize as if seeing him for the first time. Obviously discontent rumours had come to Wufei's ears; rumours that Treize was firmly involved in the slave trade despite what he had told to Wufei.  
  
And that, of course, was true. Usurping the crown of a country was not a cheap business; it took a great deal of money, money that was earned through slavery. Not just the simple trade of slaves, but the active collection of new slaves through association with seawolves that attacked foreign merchant ships enslaving entire crews. It was in this way Wufei had come into Treize's possession.  
  
Treize had not been aboard the seawolves vessel, rather on his own merchant ship at the ready to take on the human prizes. His men had seen Wufei fall into the ocean and had taken it upon themselves to rescue him. At the time Treize had been annoyed; a man who was willing to die so easily would not be an asset to him. But after he had seen Wufei's fighting stance when he had regained consciousness on the deck Treize had realised that Wufei was a true warrior and could help bring about what Treize most desired.  
  
Wufei's abhorrence of the ones who had killed his wife made it easy for Treize to manipulate him. Treize had simply given Wufei his freedom and in doing so had gained the man's trust and devotion. By keeping Wufei away from the slave pens in the bowels of the ship, Treize had kept Wufei ignorant of the fact that Treize had been in part responsible for Meiran's death.  
  
Once off the ship it had been easy to keep the farce going. Those men who knew about Treize's activities held their tongues in fear of what would be done to them by Treize's Shaman and were equally in fear of Treize himself. But once Une had begun to lose her spiritualism, the men's fear eroded and mouths began to whisper half-known truths.  
  
But still Wufei fought for Treize, despite what he had heard. And Wufei even fought for Une, a woman who Treize knew he disliked. Wufei had been closest to Une when two men had set upon her with their daggers. Treize had known that neither he nor Wufei would be able to defend Une in time and for the first time during the battle despair had welled up in his throat; the sense of wanting to protect her and being unable to almost overwhelmed him. And then Trowa was at Une's side, with swift efficient movements had dispatched the attacking men before making off with Une before Wufei could reach him.  
  
Part of Treize was grateful that Une had been saved, whilst part of him was howling with anger that Une had been once more taken from his side by the Mercian.  
  
And there was nothing that he could do at this point to get her back; indeed it was uncertain that he would even survive this battle. Lindsay was losing and losing badly.  
  
Those of his men who were not dead or dying were fighting, but they were not fighting for him. Treize could see this in their stance, the way they fought in desperation; each eager to break free of the encircling enemy. And once free Treize knew that they would not stay to aid their fellow men, instead they would bolt and run back to the villages they had been drafted from. Treize had to accept that Une was lost, the battle was lost and the High King's Crown was lost. He had come so close to having it all, but it had all slipped through his fingers.  
  
As Treize fought, he considered what he would then do. He could not return to Lindsey. He was a proud man from a proud family; he would not live with shame. But nor would he give his life to the riffraff that attacked him now; he would not allow his blood to be drunk by a sword of Sussex. But perhaps he could have one last duel, one last fight to recapture the invigorating spirit of battle that he had lost. There was only one here that would fulfil those requirements, one who would normally not fight him but if he knew the truth would not hold back.  
  
Again, Treize looked towards Wufei before making his decision. Redoubling his efforts, he began to cut a path through the men who attacked him, ignoring his own warriors and concentrating instead on his own path to freedom. Wufei gave him a startled glance, surprised by his sudden energy, but then matched him stroke for stroke and together they inched their way to the boundary of the battle.  
  
Once at the edge, he turned to look back towards the battle. Soon it would be over; already there were more Sussex alive on the field than Lindsay. Treize turned and addressed Wufei who was panting at his master's side.  
  
"You have a question?" he asked, his mouth pulling into a little smirk.  
  
Wufei's eyes narrowed and he glanced back at the battle. His face was puzzled as if wondering why Treize chose to speak of such things when the remnants of his men were being slaughtered. Frowning he turned back to Treize.  
  
"Are you a slaver?" he asked, his voice low and terse.  
  
Treize could not help but allow his mouth to pull into a smile.  
  
Wufei's eyes went dark with rage, his hand clenching his sword tightly. As he threw himself towards Treize, screaming out his battle cry, Treize's mouth pulled into a wider smile.  
  
One last glorious fight.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Dorothy sat high in the tree watching the battle play out beneath her. She sat perfectly still; it would not do for a casual movement on her part to draw attention to her location. Dressed as a boy she would be mistaken for a deserter or a spy; either assumption would mean an arrow bringing about her demise.  
  
She had arrived late on the scene, delayed by her unwelcome emotions concerning the druid. It had taken great effort on her part, but finally she had managed to push down her concern and guilt into the pit of her stomach binding it with thoughts of worldly rewards. However, those rewards were not going to be immediately forthcoming as already Sussex had surrounded the Lindsay camp making it impossible for her to present herself to her cousin. Not that she had any intention of doing so given his present circumstances. Rather she had intended to sit up in the tree and wait to see who would prevail before offering her services to the tribe that won Relena Peacecraft.  
  
It had been irritating, therefore, to see that the blond warrior who had stolen Relena from her grasp once before was doing a repeat performance, this time cuckolding Treize. Dorothy knew as soon as he had begun to cut a path through the battling warriors that he had no intention of aiding Treize, but rather was securing his own escape route. She had wished bitterly that she had arrived half an hour earlier and had been able to warn Treize of this warrior's past treacherous deeds; instead she had to just sit in her tree quietly and observe.  
  
Heero's arrival had been not entirely unexpected. The man had an inbuilt sense of when Relena was in danger and it was just like him to come riding to her rescue. Dorothy had had to stifle a yawn; this was, after all, the third or fourth time he had performed the task and she found the whole scene a little boring. Instead she watched as his companion Trowa headed into the thick of battle to snatch Treize's Shaman from what had been potentially a sticky end.  
  
Une had not moved from where Treize had left her, and had stood a slightly forlorn figure amidst the battle. Although she carried a knife, she had not raised it to defend herself even when she was approached by a couple of warriors with murder in their eyes. Dorothy had raised an eyebrow as she had noted that the warriors were men of Lindsay; obviously the Shaman had made her fair share of enemies and these men were not going to let an opportunity for revenge get by them. Treize, distracted by the battle, had not immediately seen Une's predicament, but Trowa had and had leapt to her aid quickly dispatching the two men and leading the compliant Une away to safety.  
  
As interesting as that was, something even more interesting was about to happen. Heero appeared to be challenging the blond warrior for possession of Relena and his challenge was accepted. And as they started to fight Relena shouted out her wish for the blond warrior's demise. Dorothy had raised an eyebrow at this; the princess who was usually most annoying in her belief that all life was sacred was baying like a dog for the death of a man who was apparently trying to protect her. And Dorothy was not the only one shocked by such a display. The look on both the men's faces was a sight to behold and Dorothy had felt her lips twitch into a smile.  
  
Relena suddenly throwing herself between the two men had spoiled the moment, her arms outstretched in an effort to separate them. At that point Dorothy had almost thrown herself down out of the tree in an effort to berate her for ruining such a magnificent battle. Instead, she remained still and watched as Heero had pulled the girl into his embrace declaring to all that could listen that Relena Peacecraft had chosen him.  
  
And then he kissed her.  
  
Dorothy had wanted more than anything to look away from the passionate embrace, but it transfixed her. And unwillingly once again the druid's image flashed up in her mind. She found herself wondering what it would be like to be held in his arms, what it would be like to be held in his tight embrace, what it would be like to feel his lips against hers. Unbidden a tear welled up and slipped down her face. Such sensations she would never know because she had run her sword through Quatre's side. Even if he had survived her blow she was sure that he would never forgive her.  
  
Relena allowed Heero to lead her away, Sally following in their wake a sword held out before her. Dorothy allowed herself to sneer at the nun; she couldn't even hold the weapon properly. If she tried to block any attack the only thing she would succeed in doing would be to break her thumbs. Interestingly Noin, who had been annoyingly loyal to Relena up until now, flew to the blond warrior's side and he slid an arm around her before moving off in a different direction. Dorothy frowned at this wondering just how it was that the servant woman was so familiar and trusting of the warrior. She was not the only one to observe what had occurred. Heero noted the exchange but made no mention of it to Relena as they picked their way into the forest and out of Dorothy's view.  
  
And so Mercia had once more claimed Relena and it looked like Treize was not going to fight to get her back. Dorothy's blood boiled that Treize could be so passive, but as she surveyed the battleground she realised why he did nothing. Treize was losing badly, and he knew it. At this point he only had three options: flee, surrender or die.  
  
The Kushrinada family was a proud one and Dorothy could not imagine Treize surrendering. It was inconceivable that he would subject himself to the shame of giving himself to his enemies to do with as they wished. Nor would he run away from the battle; no one of their lineage would do such a cowardly thing. Which left the only option left: to die.  
  
However, it seemed that Treize was unwilling to take up that option. Dorothy watched in horror as instead of surrendering his life, he fought his way to the edge of the battle. Her fingers gripped the trunk of the tree she was perched in tightly, she could feel splinters make their way into the pads of her fingers as she thought that perhaps he was seeking to flee rather than face up to his defeat like a man.  
  
But then he paused at the edge of the battle and turned to speak to the foreign warrior that always accompanied him. Dorothy was too far away to hear their words, but she could read Wufei's body language easily enough. His shoulders were hunched angrily as he spoke to Treize, his hand gripping his sword so tightly that his knuckles shone white. Treize in comparison looked calm; he stood tall and proud his own hand holding onto the pommel of his sword lightly, he mouth pulled into a wide smile. He looked almost happy.  
  
With a loud battle cry that was lost amidst the noise of battle, Wufei threw himself at Treize his sword falling in a heavy downward arc. Treize countered easily, as Dorothy knew that he would. Treize was an expert swordsman and although Wufei came close to Treize's level of skill, he was not as proficient as her cousin. But he did have a surprising amount of energy and force behind his blows, it seemed that Treize had goaded Wufei by the few words he had spoken to him.  
  
And then Dorothy realised what Treize had done. She closed her eyes and bowed her head. Treize had no intention of running away; he was not a coward. Nor did he intend to surrender. He had chosen, instead, to end this day fighting a warrior whose skills were near his own and who was a worthy challenger. He had said something to Wufei to cause him to fight Treize with all his soul. Treize would fight back to give honour to the warrior he had chosen to take his life. But in the end Treize would lose.  
  
A woman's scream sounded through the sounds of battle so full of anguish, helplessness and sorrow that it cut into Dorothy's bones making her feel all the loss the sound contained. She slowly opened her eyes knowing what she would see before her.  
  
Wufei stood panting over Treize, his sword slick with his master's blood. His face was twisted into an expression of surprise and shock as he looked from his stained blade to the body that lay before him as if he couldn't quite comprehend how he had won. Treize was prone on the ground, his sword still grasped in his hand, his face hidden from her view. But Dorothy didn't need to see his face to know the truth.  
  
Treize was dead  
  
* * * *  
  
The flight from the battle was a frantic one. After Heero had made his declaration of ownership of her, Relena had found herself being dragged by him through the trees to where his and Trowa's horses were hidden. Once there, he unceremoniously lifted her and placed her on the horses back, his fingers bruising and forceful.  
  
Not once did Heero speak, nor did he look at her. His face, she could see, was stormy and she suspected that he was more than a little angry at her escape. Trowa, calm as always, had lifted the dazed Shaman up onto his own horse, together with Sally who still held a sword in her hand, and was leading them away from the battle.  
  
Looking around Relena sought Lucrezia and the baby and was alarmed to see that they were no longer with them. Sliding down off the horse, she stumbled a few paces back towards the battle before Heero grasped her arm and spun her back to him. She grimaced as his fingers once again dug deep into her arm and she saw that his face was livid.  
  
"Get back on the horse!" Heero said, his eyes narrowed and cold but his voice calm. The very calmness of his voice made Relena shiver in fear.  
  
"But L-Noin!" Relena tried to pull her arm out of his grasp, but he was unrelenting.  
  
"She went with Zechs," Heero said as he once again lifted her and put her back on the horse.  
  
This time, Relena did not protest. Of course Lucrezia went with Millardo. She was, after all, his wife and the mother of his child. Relena bowed her head as she replayed Lucrezia's admission in her head, reliving the shock of finding that her brother was still alive.  
  
She found it difficult to comprehend. He had been alive all this time but had allowed the world to think that he was dead. He had allowed Relena to become a pawn in power games when all the time it was he who was heir to the throne and not Relena. He had saved her once from falling into Treize's hands, and yet he himself appeared to have been aiding Treize. It made no sense at all.  
  
Heero watched her, his eyes still dark with anger. He grabbed the reins of the horse leading it in Trowa's wake.  
  
"You chose me," he muttered so quietly that Relena almost missed it.  
  
Yes, she had chosen Heero over Millardo. Once she had discovered who Millardo was she could not stand to watch and see the two most important men in her life fighting over her. She could not have allowed either of them to spill each other's blood. And so, she had declared her wish to go with Heero and endured the look of betrayal that her brother had given her and the crushing possessive kiss that Heero had given her.  
  
Relena brought her fingers to her lips that still felt bruised from his mouth. It had been her first kiss. And it was one that had invoked such intense feelings in the pit of her stomach, even now as she remembered it she felt a fresh flurry tingle through her. Had Heero felt the same? He had declared that Relena was his; did that mean that he intended to oppose any claim that his father had on her? Did he intend to take her to wife?  
  
But if Heero knew the truth of the matter, if he knew that she was not the heir to the High King's throne, would he still want her? Would he be disgusted that so many lives had been lost to secure her when she was, in fact, worthless. She felt herself pale at the thought, slumping forward again, hugging herself. Only days ago she would have given anything to not be the heiress to the throne. And yet now when that had become a reality, she hesitated in telling Heero. What would she do if, because of her loss of status, he no longer wanted her.  
  
He glanced back at her taking in her pale features and slumped form. He frowned and stopped, reaching up to touch her leg, his touch gentle despite his angry face.  
  
"Are you hurt?" he questioned, assessing the blood that stained her clothes.  
  
Relena looked down at him, her head still bowed. Slowly, she shook her head.  
  
"No," she answered, "But there is something I must tell you."  
  
She needed to tell him about Millardo, even though it might change his regard of her. She would not lie to him about her status. But Heero turned away from her, pulling on the reins.  
  
"We will...discuss...what has occurred later," he said, "We need more distance between us and them."  
  
"But-" Relena tried once more to speak, if she did not tell him now he might believe that she deliberately kept Millardo's whereabouts a secret. But before she could utter the words a scream interrupted her.  
  
Relena twisted around in her saddle at the sound, her hands clutching the horse's mane. She half expected to see that they were once again under attack and looked frantically around to see what had caused Une to suddenly scream in such agony. For it was Une who screamed. The Shaman's mouth was still open, although no sound now issued from it. Her eyes were wide and staring, and her hands were clutching at her heart. Sally, sitting behind her, was trying to support the distressed priestess, her hands around her waist. But even as Sally offered this support, Une's eyes rolled back and closed and she toppled from the mount.  
  
Trowa caught her before she hit the ground, crouching as he was jarred by her weight. His eyes travelled over her form quickly to assess her for injury, before cradling her to his chest. Her head lolled back limply revealing just how pale she was, although her chest rose with even breaths. Her lips moved slightly as she murmured something.  
  
Heero remained at Relena's side, his position one of wariness. He had not drawn his sword, but his hand remained on the pommel. When no attack was immediately coming, he relaxed a little his hand drifting away from his sword, but he remained close to Relena. He looked questioningly at Trowa, who had stood up with the now unconscious Shaman and was lifting her up to Sally.  
  
Trowa waited until Sally had a secure hold on Une, before taking up the reins of the horse again. He led the horse close to Heero, before glancing back up at the Une. Her cheeks, though still pale, were not as ashen as they had been moments before. Satisfied that she was alright, Trowa looked toward Heero before saying in his quiet voice.  
  
"Treize is dead."  
  
Relena automatically looked back towards where they had come from. She could no longer hear the sounds of battle but realised that it must still be going on. How was it that Une knew that Treize was dead? She looked at the unconscious priestess. Was Une's bond to Treize so great that she knew the moment of her Lord's death? Unexpectedly Relena felt a little twist in the pit of her stomach. How wonderful, yet how sad, to be so bound to a man to know when he no longer existed in this world.  
  
Unwillingly Relena felt her eyes travel to Heero. He sensed her glance and looked up at her. For a moment they stared at each other, before Heero glanced away. He pulled on the reins of the horse.  
  
"Odin needs to know this," he said grimly.  
  
TBC 


	23. Chapter 23

Well, here is the last chapter ^_^ This has been my longest story to date and I am truly appreciative of all those who have had the staying power to stick with this to the end. Your reviews have all been much appreciated especially the ones that went into such detail over the last couple of chapters. I hope that you are not too disappointed by the ending; a number of plot lines are left open deliberately to allow you, the reader, to think of your own endings...and maybe to allow a sequel to be written at some point, LOL ^_~  
  
Once again, thank you!  
  
Cheers!  
  
Cynehelme  
  
by kmf  
  
Rating: PG13  
  
Warnings: AU  
  
Standard Disclaimer Applies  
  
Chapter Twenty Three  
  
They found Odin back at the villa, Catherine seeing to a wound that he had suffered during the battle. It was a shallow cut to the shoulder, but its edges were angry and red and it seemed that infection had already set into it. Catherine was bemoaning the lack of a healing Druid, but only half- heartedly. She had already seen to Quatre's wound and had been visibly shaken by the nearness to which Quatre had almost lost his life.  
  
Relena was welcomed back without comment, although she could sense some resentment from Catherine. Although she greeted Relena courteously, the head woman would not look directly at her. Catherine was holding Relena responsible for the injury Quatre had sustained, and Relena could hardly blame her. Her choices had been ill ones, despite the fact that they had been well intentioned. She had hoped that she would spare lives, instead she had endangered more.  
  
Sally, ever practical, immediately volunteered to help Catherine and the other women tend the wounded. When Catherine realised that Sally had skill and experience in healing her offer was readily accepted. Relena also offered to help, but Odin shook his head denying her.  
  
"We need to discuss events," he said and allowed her only leave to go and change from blood soaked clothes whilst giving instructions to return without delay.  
  
Relena bowed her head and complied with the King's orders. Now was not the time to protest; she no longer was of an equal standing to the King of Mercia, even though no-one else knew this but her.  
  
Hilde accompanied her to the women's quarters, casting sidelong glances at the Princess as they walked. Relena steadfastly looked forward not wishing to catch the other girl's eye and see disapproval there. However, once in the room Hilde spun around to her grasping her by the arms and gave her a little shake.  
  
"Why didn't you tell me!" Hilde demanded, "I would have gone with you! I could have helped!"  
  
Relena could not help but raise an eyebrow at the girl's outburst. A smile touched her lips, the first since she had left the villa in the morning, as she watched Hilde's eyes sparkle in her enthusiasm.  
  
"I am in enough trouble for what I did," Relena shook her head, "I would hate to add the wrath of Duo to it."  
  
Hilde snorted and crossed her arms. "The first thing that he did after returning with Quatre was to make sure that I was still here," she grinned at the memory, "Apparently I am somewhat untrustworthy in his eyes. Not helped when I told him that had I known of your intention I would have gone."  
  
She started to help Relena take off her hopelessly stained dress, carefully assessing her limbs to make sure that none of the blood originated from her. Relena stood passively allowing Hilde to tend her, her thoughts running over the events of the day.  
  
Never before had she seen death on such a scale. All of it so pointless, all of it over a title that was not even hers.  
  
"It was all such a waste," she murmured softly, looking at her hands and the dried blood that stained them. The boys blood, the young lad who had cried for help so piteously.  
  
Hilde followed her gaze, then turned to get the bowl of water that had been readied to cleanse the Princess. Dipping a cloth into the warm liquid she started to wash Relena's face.  
  
"I don't think it was a waste," Hilde commented as she worked, "The point is that you tried and if you had not gone, who knows how the day would have ended."  
  
Relena lifted a hand and took the cloth from Hilde. She said nothing, but smiled at the girl who was trying to comfort her. Hilde beamed back and turned to get a replacement dress for Relena. As Hilde turned away, the smile faded from Relena's face.  
  
Indeed, who knew how the day would have gone? Would Treize still be alive and Heero be dead? She plunged her hands into the bowl of water and watched as it slowly turned pink. Would that boy still be alive? She bowed her head and closed her eyes feeling hot tears well up as she relived the moment of his death.  
  
A hand on her shoulder brought her head up and she blinked rapidly trying to dispel the tears. Hilde was at her side again, her face showing her concern. Automatically Relena pulled her mouth into a smile to reassure the girl who sighed.  
  
"You ought to be resting; it's unfair of the King to demand your presence again so quickly after what you have been through," Hilde commented, lifting up the dress and pulling it over Relena's head. She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes as she considered the princess.  
  
Relena frowned. She had been through nothing compared with those who had lost their lives. And what of their relatives, their wives, mothers and children? Relena could not help but think of Une's reaction to Treize's death. How many other women today had experienced a sudden disquiet, a feeling that all was not well? How many days would it be before their dreaded suspicions were confirmed?  
  
She was no longer the heir of the Peacecraft throne, therefore all this fighting was senseless. She only had to tell Odin and he would see that she was not worth the trouble of defending.  
  
.and Heero will no longer want you. A little voice sounded in the back of her mind.  
  
She shook her head. He was so angry with her at the moment that the knowledge that she was an impostor would likely twist his regard of her into hate. But still, the truth had to come out. And it had to happen as soon as possible so that no more lives were ended in a pointless war.  
  
* * * *  
  
Heero washed his hands and face in a bowl of water that a maid brought him, wincing at the amount of grime that stained the water when he had finished. Nothing would please him more at this point than sinking into his bath, but that would have to wait. Odin sat in front of him, his face a little flushed from the low fever that his wound had given him. His eyes, however, were bright and focused and he watched his son closely.  
  
"Say it," he ordered when Heero had finished washing and the maid had left their side.  
  
Heero was startled, but hid it as well as he could. He should have expected his father to see that something was troubling him, Odin had always been very perceptive when it came to his son. Probably it was to do with the rivalry between them; the best way to win against an opponent was to know him well. And Odin knew Heero very well.  
  
It ought to have been the war that was bothering Heero, it ought to have been that some of his men were dead or wounded, that Quatre was sorely injured and that they were now facing not just one enemy, but many. But instead it was Relena that flitted around in his mind; her disobedience, her wilfulness and her bravery. The way her mouth felt against his and how she stirred feelings that he had never experience before.  
  
She had chosen Heero over Zechs in the battlefield and at that moment Heero had been unable to restrain himself. He had kissed her in the triumph of the moment, not expecting to feel such possessiveness as he had done so. And he had not expected that his heart would race so fast and he tasted her, or that he would feel such need to do so much more to her than just kiss her.  
  
On the way back to the villa he had concentrated on his anger at her actions which could so easily have gotten her killed. Anything but think of how sweet she had tasted and how soft her body felt under his seeking fingers. She had been quiet too, head bowed and subdued. Heero had thought that she might be regretting her choice, but that was her problem. She had chosen him and he would be dammed if he allowed her to escape him again.  
  
"Well...?" Odin brought Heero's thoughts back to the present.  
  
There was only one obstacle left to Heero now, and he was sitting opposite him. Heero frowned and stood straight, his fists clenching at his side.  
  
"I want to wed with Relena," he said, his voice flat and determined.  
  
Odin said nothing, merely raising an eyebrow. Heero stared down at his father who seemed nonplussed by his son's declaration. Heero felt his palms begin to sweat as still his father gazed at him. Finally Odin spoke.  
  
"You want the High King's Crown for yourself," he said, folding his arms carefully and wincing a little as the wound pulled.  
  
"I want Relena for myself!" Heero growled in reply.  
  
"Ah.... You are infatuated with her," Odin said looking away to the fire, "She is a beautiful woman with a strong heart. It is not surprising that you have developed feelings for her. But, there are plenty of other beautiful women in this Kingdom."  
  
Heero knelt at his father's feet. He spoke quietly knowing that if he did not make the effort to restrain himself he would be shouting at the top of his lungs in an effort to get his father to listen to him.  
  
"I. Want. Relena," he said, "I don't want any other woman. I want her. I want her to be mine."  
  
Odin leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowed. "Why is it that you must have everything of mine?" he questioned back, his mouth grim. "Soon enough you will have Mercia and the High King's throne. Why is it that you can't wait for my death? And now you want the woman that I would marry as well?"  
  
Heero blinked, focusing on the angry glare in his father's eyes. He shook his head slowly. "I have never yearned after your throne, and I have never wanted the High King's throne," he replied, "and I hope that it will be many years before I am burdened with either. But I do want Relena and she wants me."  
  
Odin's eyes widened a little at Heero's declaration, before he snorted and turned away. Heero gripped either side of his father's chair before giving it a little shake.  
  
"Listen to me!" Heero demanded.  
  
Odin pushed out with his good arm, an action Heero was not prepared for. He toppled backwards, whilst his father stood up over him.  
  
"You listen to me boy!" Odin growled, "I am your King and you will do as I say!"  
  
Heero pushed himself up and glared at his King, but before he could respond Relena entered the chamber.  
  
She looked tired, dark smudges under eyes gave away that she had had little sleep of late. Her hair, however, hung over her shoulder gleaming warmly, and her posture was alert and determined. She looked from Heero to Odin, then back to Heero, her eyebrow raised showing her confusion. She had most certainly heard them shouting at each other, but probably did not realise that they were fighting over her.  
  
Heero felt his breath become shallow as he observed her walk close to him. She moved steadily and he felt relief that she had not been injured as he had feared. She had told him that she was not injured, but so much blood had soaked her skirts that he was unsure whether she was telling the truth.  
  
Odin rose from his seat, his eyes gleaming. He took Relena's hand and drew her close to him. Heero stiffened at his father's predatory actions. Relena allowed Odin to kiss her hand, but continued to flick her eyes towards Heero looking uncomfortable at the attention. As soon as Odin released her hand, Relena fell back a pace. Odin frowned at her action, but Relena did not notice as her head was bowed.  
  
"Please, I must tell you both -" she began, but was interrupted by Odin.  
  
"Don't apologise," he said as he sat down in his chair, "Let us forget about the incident."  
  
Heero watched as Relena's head instantly snapped up.  
  
"I wasn't going to apologise," she said, "Although you may consider my actions wrong," she directed a glance at Heero, "I would do anything to end this war quickly."  
  
Odin snorted and glanced away. "The only way to end this war is fight decisively," he declared.  
  
"Or parley."  
  
Quatre had entered the room unnoticed by Heero, supported by Catherine who looked cross. She led him over to the chair by Odin and, without seeking permission, helped Quatre to sit down. Quatre murmured his thanks to the serving woman, who looked at him irritably, her lips pressed into a thin line.  
  
"Thank me by not straining yourself too much," she said, before nodding to the King and leaving.  
  
Relena knelt beside the Druid, her face showing her concern. "Are you alright?" she asked, taking in his pale face and wounded shoulder, "Did Dorothy do this?"  
  
Quatre smiled at the woman's concern. "She is quite a swordswoman," he said, patting Relena's hand to reassure her, "but I will live. Did she return with you?" He frowned as Relena shook her head.  
  
"I have not seen her since she told us to go on," she said.  
  
"It is of no consequence where this Dorothy is," Odin interrupted. "I take it that you have left your sick bed to offer advice. And that advice would be to talk to those who are attacking." Odin's mouth twisted showing his distaste for the idea.  
  
Quatre nodded. "It is," he said firmly, "They attack because they believe that Mercia has stolen the Peacecraft Heir. They believe that she is not here of her own free will. If they can be convinced that she is and that she has wed of her own volition then I am convinced that they will honour the old agreements and leave our borders."  
  
Heero glanced at Relena who remained kneeling at Quatre's side. Her face was pale and she glanced up at Heero, her eyes showing that she was not entirely comfortable with Quatre's words. Odin was also watching her, his face intent on her every move. Heero felt satisfaction that she looked towards him rather than his father and could not help but look at Odin with a smug smile on his face.  
  
Quatre sensing the discontentment between Heero and the King frowned again. "If Relena was willing to do so, she could talk to the leaders of the warbands and convince them that she is here of her own free will," he paused, ".If that is true."  
  
Odin banged the armrest of his chair with his fists. "Enough!" he declared, looking from Heero to Quatre and back again. "Leave, now. I would talk to Relena about this in private."  
  
Heero stiffened. The smile that had been on his face disappeared rapidly as he tried to calculate what his father was up to. Odin stared at him as if daring him to disobey, and Heero stared back silently warning his father to leave Relena be.  
  
"I think that what you say to her should be heard by me," Heero grated moving a little closer to the kneeling girl.  
  
"Do you think that you can stomach the answer she gives?" Odin grinned up at his son.  
  
Heero did not bother to answer. He knew that Relena wanted him as much as he wanted her; her reaction to his kiss confirmed it. Smirking again, he looked down at Relena. There was no way that he would lose to his father, not this time.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Relena stood up from the Druid's side and gazed into the fire. She had not paid attention to the conversation between Heero and his father, after Quatre's declaration of his solution to the war. She had known ever since she had first discovered that Heero was Prince of Mercia that she was destined to become his wife or the wife of his father, but now she also knew that she was not who they thought she was. She was living a lie. A lie not of her own making, but that of her brother who seemed determined to not take up the Kingship as he ought to do.  
  
And now it was getting so much more complicated. If she kept silent about the fact that her brother lived she had the opportunity to end the war peacefully. But what would happen after if the truth came out. If Millardo should decide that he wanted to be High King, or if his son decided to take up the throne, what would happen then? And if she was honest, who would believe her? Would they think that it was an excuse to evade marriage?  
  
Hearing a slight cough behind her, Relena turned to find Odin standing close to her. He smirked a little at her reaction reminding her of Heero and she blushed a little at the thought, her gaze flickering back to where Heero stood with the same smirk on his face. Odin frowned a little at her wandering gaze and took her hand in his once more.  
  
Relena's free hand grasped the material of her skirt, crumpling the material as she suddenly realised what he meant to do. He was going to follow Quatre's advice, he was going to ask her to wed him and end the war. But she did not wish to marry him. As much as she held him in high regard and affection even, Heero was the one who shone brightly in her eyes. Heero was the one she wished with all her being to be with for the rest of her days. She knew that she had to stop him speaking.  
  
Odin opened his mouth to utter the words, but Relena forestalled him lifting a hand to his mouth, blushing a little at the intimate contact of his lips touching her finger tips. She ignored that startled noise that issued from Heero, instead she frantically thought of something, anything, to say to stop Odin declaring himself to her.  
  
"My brother lives," she whispered, almost choking on the words.  
  
Odin blinked in surprise, letting go of her hand allowing it to fall away from him. Heero and Quatre were silent, but their gazes bored into her back. Relena tried to stay calm as she took her shaky fingers away from Odin's mouth, once again gripping the fabric of her skirts. It was not exactly the best way to stop Odin proposing, but it seemed to have worked. He stared at her, motionless from the surprise of her declaration.  
  
"I saw him with Treize and he helped me escape when Sussex attacked," Relena hurried on, eager to get the truth out and to deal with the consequences. "He and Heero fought, then after he left with his wife and child."  
  
"Zechs?" Heero pushed the name through gritted teeth.  
  
"Wife and child?" Odin's eyebrows nearly disappeared into his hairline, "They all live?"  
  
Relena nodded. "She was here; the maid Noin and her baby. I didn't know who she was until she told me Zechs was my brother Millardo."  
  
Odin rubbed his chin with his hand, looking past Relena at Heero as if seeking confirmation of this. His eyes were troubled and concerned at the new turn of events.  
  
"I knew there was something familiar about that woman," he said, "But it makes no sense..." he trailed off looking back at Relena.  
  
"Actually, it does make sense," Quatre interrupted from his place by the fire, "Millardo Peacecraft is trying to protect his family. The throne is a threat to them, so he has withdrawn his claim on it."  
  
"But it's the crown!" Odin exclaimed, "The High King's Crown!"  
  
"And he has a wife and a child. A son who could have been easily killed just for that title," Quatre replied quietly, his blue eyes calm. "I can understand him giving up everything for the life of his son."  
  
Odin paused at this, frowning. He looked towards Heero for a moment, before turning back and throwing himself down into his chair. It seemed that the King found his shoes fascinating, for he continued to study them as he rubbed his hand over his chin.  
  
"You chose me over your brother."  
  
The words were whispered into Relena's ear, and she half turned to see that Heero had come close to her and was looking at her intently. She could not help the blush that coloured her cheeks and she looked down at her feet. A longing to just throw herself into his arms to be held safe and warm flowed over her but she resisted the temptation.  
  
"I am sorry," she said quietly before looking back up at him, pushing her desire down into the pit of her stomach, "I did not mean to not tell you, but I was so surprised and then I was afraid."  
  
"Afraid?" Heero had taken hold of her chin and was gently caressing her jaw line with his thumb. The sensation caused little shivers to travel up and down Relena's spine and she found it difficult to think, let alone speak.  
  
"Afraid that you would no longer want me," she confessed her voice so low that he had to bend his head towards her to catch them, "That if I were no longer the Peacecraft heir you would have no need of me."  
  
Relena stopped talking as she was suddenly pulled against Heero's firm chest, his arms wrapped firmly around her body and his hands caressing up and down her back. For a moment she resisted, tried to pull away from him, but he was unyielding. So she stopped and instead gave herself up to the luxury of nestling her head up against his chest.  
  
"Idiot," was all that Heero said. The word on its own should have been insulting, but coupled with his embrace and the softness of how he said it made it seem like the most beautiful endearment in the world.  
  
A gentle cough sounded from behind them and Relena realised that it must be Quatre reminding them of where they were and who was witnessing their embrace. Odin! Relena stiffened and pulled away from Heero, and this time he let her. But he did not relinquish his grip on her entirely, instead he held on to her hand, his thumb tracing lazy patterns against the back of her hand.  
  
King Odin was looking up at them with a strange expression on his face, he seemed to be resigned yet at the same time determined. He lifted a hand and pointed towards Relena.  
  
"You are the Peacecraft heir," he said ignoring the protest that half welled up in her throat. "Your brother is dead. If he were alive I would not accept him as King. The title of King demands sacrifices; a King must be willing to give up everything for the sake of his people. Millardo Peacecraft has shown none of these qualities. He has put himself and his family above all else and that is unacceptable."  
  
"But-" Relena tried to speak again, but a gentle squeeze of Heero's hand warned her to remain quiet."  
  
"I know my fellow Kings. None of them would accept him either. If Millardo Peacecraft were alive it would tear this isle apart. No, he is dead. And you are heir," Odin continued. "We will parley with the other Kings and you will convince them that you are here of your own accord. That way we will have peace," he stared at Relena as if drinking in her image one last time, then turned to look at the fire. "Because you will be vulnerable as a unmarried woman, you must wed. I would have you marry Heero, if you desire it."  
  
Heero's fingers stopped their intimate caress of Relena's hand as Odin spoke, and for a moment or two Relena was unsure whether she had heard correctly. Odin's lips turned up into a faint smile as he turned back to face them.  
  
"A strong man is needed to bring the negotiations to a successful conclusion. And I am wounded," he gestured to his shoulder wincing as he moved. "If I wed you Relena a frail old man near to his death would ascend the throne and that would be an advantage only to our enemies," Odin grinned, "As much as it will disappoint you, I must ask that you take my son instead of me."  
  
Relena blinked, staring uncertainly at Odin. He was neither frail nor old and although his shoulder had been wounded he was not weak. She frowned wondering why, when he had been so forward with her before, he had now changed his mind. And then Quatre's voice came clearly to her  
  
"I can understand him giving up everything for the life of his son."  
  
She suddenly realised that this was what Odin was doing for Heero. Odin had wanted the High King's Throne and he had seemed to desire to be wed to her as well. But he had seen that Heero loved and wanted her even though she had nothing to her name and he was giving up all he wanted for the sake of his son. Relena could not help herself, she threw her arms around Odin's waist and hugged him tightly.  
  
"Thank you," she murmured before pulling away.  
  
Odin looked a little nonplussed. "You know, you remind me more and more of your mother," he said quietly, before raising a hand to scratch his head. His small smile turned into a smirk as he looked at Heero, "You better watch her closely," he sniffed, "She obviously still finds me attractive."  
  
Heero said nothing, but sunk to his knees in a posture of submission before his king. He did not thank his father, but his attitude showed his gratitude. Then he got to his feet and turned to Relena. Taking her by the hand, he pulled her away with him, walking swiftly out of the room, down darkened halls. Once satisfied that they were alone, he turned to Relena, tracing his finger once more over her cheekbone.  
  
"Will you have me?" he asked quietly, his eyes serious and urgent, "I would not force you to be my wife."  
  
Relena could say nothing, her throat felt choked and tight, the palms of her hands sweaty and her heart raced as if she had run for miles. All she could do was nod and hope that her eyes showed how much she wanted to be with Heero. And it seemed that this was enough for Heero.  
  
He smiled. A warm broad smile that lit his face and made Relena's heart almost stop in her joy. Never before had she seen him so relaxed, calm and happy. Then the smile faded and his eyes became intense, so blue and deep that it made her heart beat rapidly once again. Slowly he dipped his head down and allowed his lips to gently brush against hers.  
  
It was not a kiss of passion like she experienced with him out on the battlefield. This was a gentle loving kiss that made her toes curl in her sandals as he made her understand just how much he loved her. And then, as he slowly deepened the kiss pressing his lips harder against hers, encouraging her mouth to open with his tongue, she knew that he was showing her just how much he desired her.  
  
He did not say anything, no declarations of love were forthcoming. But he showed her his love with his soul as his mouth moved against hers. There were no need for words, his racing heart, flushed face and shallow breath told her all that she needed to know.  
  
And so, with as much skill as her innocence would allow she showed him how much she loved him back.  
  
* * * *  
  
Epilogue  
  
Quatre stood back against the wall of the hall half hidden by shadows as he watched the King and Queen progress through the hall. Relena moved slowly, her arm supported by her husband who watched over her with an over keen awareness. She looked beautiful, her long blond hair combed until it shone and her face serene and confident. She had changed greatly from the small frightened dirty novice that Quatre had first met on the steps to Heero's villa.  
  
She was now an adept politician, someone who had managed to calm warring nations with soft words. The Kings who had come to Mercia eager to fight to try and claim a woman who held the High King's Throne in her hands had been convinced by her sincere words that she was where she wanted to be, with whom she wanted to be: her husband. A bond declared by Quatre himself and witnessed by all the men and women ho had taken refuge in the villa.  
  
Peace had come, not as quickly as they all had hoped, but gradually the nations that made up the Isle had accepted that Heero of Mercia would rule them as High King, with Relena at his side as Queen. And once they had left the Mercian boundaries, Heero had taken Relena back to the abbey there to sanctify their marriage in the eyes of her God.  
  
The nun Sally had taken the opportunity to travel back with them to her convent which she rejoined, content that she had seen and experienced enough of the wide world for the moment. During the trip, Sally had often looked about herself as if hoping to catch a glimpse of someone, but Quatre suspected that she never saw the one she hoped to see.  
  
Quatre, however, had. Not far out of the villa he had caught sight of a boy lurking amidst the trees, short hair bright gold and eyes intently seeking him. It had been Dorothy, disguised as usual, but this time with a bright smile gracing her lips. Quatre had fancied that it was because she had seen that he was alive and well despite the wound that she had inflicted on him. He had smiled back hoping that she would come out of the shadows of the wood to him, but instead she had slipped away with a wicked grin on her face as if to say 'You'll never catch me!' He had not seen her since, but felt in the deepness of his soul that one day he would.  
  
Not all that had come to Mercia because of the war left. Trowa had by some means convinced Une to remain by his side. She had been unresponsive immediately after Treize's death but gradually as time passed by she had begun to smile once more. And once she had set aside her Shaman's tools she bloomed in everyone's eyes gaining several suitors in addition to Trowa. She had, of course, chosen Trowa but not before Trowa had with his usual efficiency warned off those who had tried to take Une from his side.  
  
And that had been the first of a spate of weddings. Duo finally wed Hilde, but only after she had given him a black eye for flirting with a young villager who had sought refuge in the villa. He had to work long and hard to get Hilde to forgive him, but she had finally come around and consented to be his wife. Then King Odin had surprised everyone by announcing that he was marrying the spinster sister of the King of Sussex, a quiet woman tall and dark, with intelligent lively eyes. She was passive and obedient in public, but Odin had boasted more than once, to Quatre's everlasting embarrassment, that in the privacy of their own room she was refreshingly dominant.  
  
Quatre once more focused on Relena as she paused for a moment, her hand moving to her swollen stomach massaging where the child she carried in her womb had just kicked her. Heero grinned commenting that his son would be a fighter, before holding Relena closer to himself and murmuring in her ear. Relena's aura spun forth lazily, entwining in Heero's and Quatre had to smile. She was a remarkably strong and loving person.  
  
The only issue that continued to give her unease was the whereabouts of her brother. Quatre knew that she wondered whether he and his family had lived through the day they all met on the battlefield and was desperate to know the truth of the matter. Especially when the new life had stirred within her focusing her thoughts on babies and in particular her nephew which she had held for a short time. That child would now be in his second year, and probably Quatre thought as he remembered the strength of the child's aura, giving his parents no end of trouble.  
  
Quatre was sure that Millardo Peacecraft, his wife and son, still lived. He was convinced that having felt such a connection to the child he would have felt that child's demise if that had occurred. Whilst this did not fully reassure Relena, it did comfort her a little. And the knowledge that Millardo had deliberately distanced himself from the High King's Throne kept her from doing what she most wanted to do; search for him. One day, Quatre was sure, Relena would be reunited with Millardo and her brother would be proud to see that she had continued the Peacecraft tradition of ruling peacefully and wisely.  
  
A small cheer sounded as Heero bent his head to give his wife a light kiss, and Relena's cheeks flamed red with embarrassment. It made Quatre laugh to see that she was still a little prudish about being observed kissing her husband, even though they had been married over a year and their first child was almost due to be born. But she rose to the challenge her husband had given her and reached up to kiss Heero firmly back.  
  
Indeed she had grown into a beautiful strong woman and Quatre could only be honoured to be there to witness her embrace the destiny that he had seen surround her when first they met. She was the Queen of Peace.  
  
The End. 


End file.
